I saw a little girl hit a car today.

Crystal and I were going to South Bend on Highway 12, when this little girl, maybe ten or eleven years old, starts running as fast as she can across the road--I mean, she was booking it. The only problem was that there was a car coming in the other lane. It was perfectly visible, no bends or dips to obscure it, and it was probably going 45 or 50.

The little girl ran directly into the side door of the car, spun completely around, and kept running to her stunned mom and grandma standing in the yard.

I could not believe it. The other car had stopped by this point--that driver must have been scared shitless--and the girl just ran to her mom, like nothing was wrong. I expected to see a dent in the car door, and blood and mangled bones on the road.

Here's what I don't understand: Why was she running across a main highway in the first place? Why didn't she see the car coming? Why didn't she slow down before she ran into it full-speed? And WHY wasn't she hurt?

The worst part is that Crystal and I saw a KID hit a CAR . . . and we couldn't stop laughing about it. It's macabre, I know--but it seemed so unreal, like when Brad Pitt gets hit in Meet Joe Black. If she had started running a millisecond sooner, the car would have hit her head-on, and she probably would have died; I would have been scarred for life. But since she wasn't hurt, we were just like, "Well, we're running late for Ice Age: The Meltdown; we better keep going."