No luck. I was cornered by our agent herself. And was reluctantly impressed when she knew who I was and remembered last summer's Capital article about TACA. When she mentioned that the new Women's Chamber of Commerce in our town was looking for some charitable causes, she had me. I would go, review our insurance, and leave some TACA information behind. And then I could quit dodging State Farm calls for awhile.
"We are not buying any new insurance," I told my husband. He agreed to show up on his way home from work. By then I think we were both viewing this as a necessary evil. Kind of like dental cleanings. Endure it, and forget about it for awhile.
I was pleasantly surprised by our agent. She was not pushy. She was conversant in college football, important since Mike's Longhorns just played for the national title. She accepted our explanation about limited funds for more insurance. But she did talk about an umbrella policy. And after a couple of minutes, she had our attention.
The umbrella policy covers gaps left by policies like home and auto, she explained. If a tree from our yard falls onto a neighbor's car, or a repair person trips in our garage (if you've ever been in there, you know that's a possibility), the policy picks up where our home or auto coverage leaves off. In my experience, insurance usually leaves off a lot of the important stuff. The umbrella policy covers every member of our family.
Mike was a bit quicker on the draw than I was. He asked, "So, if Leah does something, we're covered?" The lightbulb went on for both of us.
I look back at that paragraph and wonder whether I just made my daughter sound like a monster. She's not. She's a kid with pragmatic language delays who still communicates quite a bit through behaviors. She's the girl with the curl. And when our insurance agent explained umbrella policies to us in January, it didn't take us long to consider that, like a lot of kids, Leah goes through good and bad cycles of behavior. Her most recent 'down cycle' (as I call them) happened in December. Bad behavior can include tipping chairs, throwing shoes, and if she still hasn't gotten her point across, the occasional whack in the direction of a classmate. When she lashes out, she's focused on communicating her rage to the adults in her way. A chair, a pair of shoes, or the arm of a classmate are means to an end, unfortunately.
In her special ed classroom, all the kids have behavior issues of some kind. Her neurotypical classmates have been very supportive of her up to this point. We're also helped by the fact that she isn't strong. But I couldn't help but think about what might happen if a tossed shoe connects with the wrong kid sometime. A child of parents who think a shoe print on a kid's forearm is grounds for a lawsuit.
Rates were about $30-40 a month for coverage that also supplements my professional liability insurance (I resumed my career as a social worker not long ago). ASD kids don't always interact easily with the rest of the world. The last thing I wanted was to add attorney's fees or someone else's medical expenses to a family budget already dominated by autism. So I went back on my word. At the risk of sounding like a shill for insurance agents, I think umbrella policies are worth a look, especially if you think your kid could harm other people or other things, however unintentionally. (Of course, that could describe just about any teenager with a learner's permit.)
We bought the insurance. It's one policy I will be very glad not to need. But we left the life insurance the way it was. I choose to see that as a victory.
-- Alison Hamilton
