All three of my children have baby books. (Some of them even have writing in them!) I was flipping through Brandon’s yesterday looking through the section that contained the Milestones That You Must Record Or You Are A Horrible Mother! Ironically enough, I had a Milestone that I felt Baby Book-worthy. I was shocked that there was no place specified to record this auspicious occasion. (Thankfully, I have a blog to record such moments!)
I was driving Brandon to school. It was just the two of us, so we were simply enjoying that peace and quiet of the morning ride. Neither one of us are big into small talk in the morning. I’m not because I have probably only had one cup of coffee at that point and all of my brain cells are not quite firing yet. Brandon is quiet because, bless his little heart, he has not yet discovered the bliss and joys of that first cup of coffee in the morning. I thought I would wait until at least 7th grade before we share out morning coffee together. (8th before our weekend beers.) I know this route to and from the schools and the traffic patterns like the back of my hand. One misstep in when you leave and you are going to sit in traffic much longer than you should have to. (Much longer than my patience allows so early in the morning.) There are really only 2 major areas where cars are known to get backed-up. (By backed-up of course I mean, intersections where people drive like idiots and usually check their brains at the stop sign.) The first one is the **worst.
Brandon and I are off to a great morning start. We have managed to speak more than 10 words to each other. (All nice!) And we hit THAT intersection. It APPEARED to be a smooth commute. No major back-ups. Not too many cars. No children flinging themselves in front of you to cross the street before you get there. In general, not too bad.
Halfway through turning in the intersection, the SUV in front of me slams on his**brakes because the SUV in front of him slammed on his brakes. FOR NO KNOWN REASON. No children. No cars. Not even one damn leaf flying in front of his car to distract him. Nothing. (Did I mention I drive a SMALL car? Small car + Big Ass SUV = Certain pain and destruction to my car, my child and my person!)
So, I did what any responsible mother would do. I slammed on my brakes and yelled, “What The Fuck?!” Yelled. As in not mumbled under my breath.
Yes folks, I dropped my first f*bomb on my child and was able to watch his face as the vulgarity of the moment oozed all over him.
Ironically enough, I was the only one shocked and appalled by it! He nearly bit a hole in his lip trying with all his might to not burst forth in uncontrollable laughter at my overly emphatic apologies and stammering. Apparently, his laughter was too forceful for him to hold in as he spit all over me and my windshield in hysterics as I continued to babble-ass my way through something that resembled a backtrack of some sort. To be honest, I think I made his day. I have never dropped him off at school–EVER– with such a huge grin on his face.
And Hallmark doesn’t think that is Baby Book Worthy? Puh-leez!
** Hat tip to Ted for pointing out the two glaring errors. I have fixed them. Hey, I am totally here for my readers!