Carpool causes my heart rate to increase as well as blood pressure elevation and no amount of counting to 6 trillion I do or how much deep meditative breathing I do, seems to help.
Carpool is different now that I don’t have any kids in elementary/middle school, thank the Lord above. That was a whole other ball of stinkin’ wax. No, I now have to deal with teenage drivers and their big ass trucks that they can’t drive worth a crap. Or the little cuss whose parents gave them a brand new Mustang instead of spending time with them, or the new 4 door Jeep, again, a replacement for time spent . . .
Most mornings, I can skirt carpool but my son, who is my daily driver, has been meeting with the Young Life leader every Tuesday morning for breakfast along with several other of his friends for fellowship. I am really happy he has this positive figure in his life as the one that has been available to him since his birth has fallen short and that probably won’t ever change.
However . . .
This means each Tuesday morning, I get the jolly o’ jolt of irritation, terror, frustration, and elevation in heart rate and blood pressure as I mentioned. If I’m not stuck behind some air head on her cell phone texting unaware that the light has turned green, I’m stuck behind the idiot that goes and stops and goes and stops unable to judge distance or they lack an awareness of timing or hell, they may not even realize that they are driving a car, who the hell knows.
It is not uncommon for someone to violently dive in front of me into the line to turn into the school parking lot, right in the middle of the intersection. The last I checked, though its been 100 years since I’ve taken my permit test, you don’t change lanes in the middle of an intersection. Evidently there are like 10 kids/parents whose driving handbook had this page ripped out. And here’s what kills me, the violent line invader waves to you in false appreciation of you letting them over. I want to yell out, “Thanks for raping the carpool line you idiot!”
On one occasion, some idiot kid was on her cell phone, again, not paying attention as her car was actually moving and proceeded to pop up the curb scaring the Bajeesus out of an innocent walker. Had it been Edward Scissor Arms, he would have just chopped her up to bits but no, it was Old Lady Matilda and she about fell out. The look on her face was that of someone who had just seen her life flash before her eyes.
I have seen teenagers making out in the parking lot in the back seat of their cars, just to be sure to get it in before school starts. I’ve seen what looked like drug deals as I make my way to drop-off for my kids. Its unbelievable.
I had my last straw this week, y’all and here’s how it went . . .
Only after nearly getting leveled by a school bus, I eagerly pulled up to drop the kids off so I could get the hell out of the parking lot from hell. Oh, but no . . . that was not in my cards for today.
I pull forward after the drop-off and soon realize that my escape route, along with a lot o’ other parents, is being blocked by and shit-ton Hemi truck given to a male child who was about 5 foot nothing and he was trying to back that monster up into a parking space made for a VW Beetle. He maneuvered and maneuvered and maneuvered and put about 346 more maneuverd’s in there . . .
I could feel my shoulders raising up to my ears and my neck and lower back begin to tense up from severe irritation bordering on stabby. As I looked back behind me and over to the other side feeding into this one lane, there were about 75 other cars backed all the way up to the road trying to get into the parking lot from hell. Dumb ass midget truck kid was not going to let up and thats when the honking started. Eventually, the dumb ass got the hint and looked up for a second from the impossible feat he was trying to accomplish and FINALLY let everyone pass.
He got a lot of fingers, even from parents, I was floored. I mean I was pissed and stabby but the kid didn’t deserve the bird, especially from a grown up. Although I had visions of running at him screaming with crazed eyes, flailing arms, a foaming mouth, and maybe a rock so he knew I meant business but I just didn’t have it in me at that moment.
Praise baby Jesus above, my daughter will get her license in September and I will be done with this creature they call carpool. And you know what, I know with no doubt whatsoever, that I will not miss it. Not one stinkin’ bit, ya’ll.
I will miss the Valentine’s parties when they were little, the Christmas sing-a-longs, the field trips, and the sports that I go and watch them play but not damn carpool! Not EVER!