Why road rage never works out

Yesterday was one of those days. Plan and deliver a great day for my kiddo only to have him act like he lost his little mind.

Again. At the movie theatre. In public.

It was what I like to call a DCFS moment. One of those where I’m sure that I’m going to lose it with my kid and end up in prison. But I didn’t do it. I never would. Instead we got into the car to head home. I’m always better in these moments when my kid is in the car seat. Contained.

Of course we hit traffic. The farm tractor making a left turn. My lack of awareness of a farm in the city where the tractor could be headed only pissed me off more but the worst was yet to come. The rocket scientist who goes through the light knowing full well they’re going to block the intersection. I chose to set the example for my kid and not swear at this hose head as I blared my horn and squeezed through. I was classy and flipped her off. It felt great until I heard this from the back seat: “Look mommy. It’s Miss Rachel.”

Oh. Crap.

His teacher from last year. Looking kind of freaked out by the nut flipping her off until she realized it was me and she waved. She even smiled because she’s that nice person that I am not. Super.

There’s a morale to this story. Road rage doesn’t pay. Unless you are positive you don’t know the other person.


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