Some People....

So I feel compelled to share my little story that occured while I was picking the girls up from dance tonight. But it really starts before that, like the beginning of the day....and it built up and up and up. I tried to be patient, really I did. When Seth yelled and screamed at Lindsay for washing his leather belt (the one HE left on his shorts and put in the wash), I held my tongue and tried to keep my voice soft and kind. When Sean's teacher didn't recognize me at lunchtime and told me to quit standing on the rocks by the tree where I was engaging him in conversation, I kept my cool and responded to her with a smile. When I had to stop and start six times as I was reading to Sean during his homework, I allowed the interruptions from everyone (even though I had asked for some quiet time). And when half of them complained about having meatloaf for dinner (Tuey in particular) I tried to be pleasant about it. While M.K. went to mutual, I sat in the car for an hour and fifteen minutes awaiting her arrival even though I was told she would only be a half hour. But when I went to get the girls at dance...well that was my undoing. The dance place is on a busy corner with very little parking. A parking spot is nigh on to impossible. There is a parking lot across the street, but the van is so long, it makes parking awkward. Picture this if you can. I cruised past the door to the dance place and saw that the girls were not yet out in the hall so I went though the parking lot and turned back out to cruise past once more. There they were. They spotted me and ran out. I was in the street, not parked. I want to emphasize that. I was NOT parked. My window was up. I could see Lindsay was about to bolt across. I held up my hand to stop her talking through the glass, mouthing words to no avail. She started across, a deer caught in the sudden emergence of a car coming around the corner while Mary Kate stands back. Sean is in the passenger seat. I feel his presence. I see my daughter, my foolish daughter, frightened much like her foolish mother. The car stops in time. The car passes slowly, it's driver looking for a parking spot as well. I manage to get my window halfway down. The girls are standing too close to the street, safer I think if they come across now. Crossing the street will be hazardous no matter what. I am scolding Lindsay even as I motion her toward the van, still in the middle of the street. Hurry up, hurry up. Now. Come on. Lindsay! You didn't even look!" A man passes behind my van on foot and says over his shoulder, "You know it's not a good idea to pick up your kids in the middle of the street." I then said, "Thanks a lot mister. LIKE I DIDN'T KNOW THAT!" He actually continued to talk. "You should find a parking spot---" Unbelievable. At this point, I had had quite enough. I had just watched my child almost get run over and I became, shall we say, unhinged by his know-it-all judgemental tone. I screamed "BE QUIET" at him in such a way that I felt like an escapee from a mental institution. It was gutteral. Hoarse. Crazy. And loud. With that I rolled up my window, turned the corner and was gone.