Once, when I was something on the order of 6 or 7, I was sitting on the back of my mom's bike when she picked me up from school. (She was walking, not riding it. At least, I think.) We got close to a delivery van for an ice cream company that was just backing out of a driveway - right into us. Bike went down, I went down, and the van stopped. Long story short, the bike was slightly bent but fixable, my mom and I got off without a scratch and we got a free box of assorted popsicles out of the whole deal. I fondly remember one big (for me, back then) red popsicle shaped like a Formula 1 car.
Also sorta-kinda related, up until last year my parents and I went to Greece for a week in the summer (a five-year tradition). The second to last time, so three years ago now, we were in the southern Peloponnese, it had been raining the night before and we were driving a rental car on a piece of road cut out of a steep, rocky slope. Suddenly I hear lots of grit hitting the car, which I thought had been thrown up from the road's surface, a shadow passes overhead and my parents suddenly start screaming without warning. I can't recall what my dad said, but my mom kept saying "WE SURVIVED IT WE SURVIVED IT" over and over again.
We stopped a while down the road, I still had no idea what had happened. My parents told me that we just had a near-miss with a huge rock, which passed less than a foot above the roof of the car. We drove back to where it happened, and we had no trouble at all finding the bastard, since it was about six or seven feet wide, had a huge chunk smashed out of it from the impact and had actually created a four-foot-wide crater where it hit, and then bounced another eight or so feet further before stopping. We got off with not a scratch and an awesome story, but literally just a foot lower and it'd have been end of story for my family. That was one huge motherfucking rock.
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