Some days are yellow. Some days are blue. So says the Dr. Seuss book for kids about color and emotion. This day was more a rainbow of colors. Not in the beautiful arching colors type rainbow but more like a technicolor yawn (read as vomit).
I'm pretty sure I took it out on a well deserving but complete stranger. Thing is, if you live in a small town, any town really, shouldn't you make an extra effort to tip your hat at your neighbor and do things with kindness?
I could have been a bit kinder in delivering my message. At least I remembered not to curse in front of the kids when the impatient driver right behind us floored it around us through a stop sign so as not to be stuck behind our slow moving 1980 diesel. There are usually many kids and families on bikes on their way to school at this intersection and it made my blood boil that someone would think they were above the law and above the safety of anyone around them. It wasn't a mistake what they did. Or an accident. It was decidedly on purpose. Something inside my head snapped. I've heard people describe it as if their feet and hands have a will of their own. Mine sure did. I thought she should know and decided to tell her so.
My car drove after her. She turned off the main street literally 100 feet from the stop sign she just ignored. My horrified kids just wanted to get to school. I thought they should know it's OK to tell someone they are being dangerous. I obeyed all speed limits and stop signs. As I rolled down my window in front of her and told her that she was unsafe and should know better living in a small town than to expect her rude and dangerous behavior to be ignored, she quickly slunk into her house and avoided eye contact. A grown woman in her 50's should really be able to be responsible for her actions. Heck! My 4 year old knows how to apologize when she's wrong.
I reached for my camera just in case I needed it and she managed to collect herself and come out. I flipped the video camera on and recorded. Her excuse? "Your toxic fumes". "Sorry we can't afford a nicer car" was my reply. A light must have dawned on her and she became apologetic. Her words, "I can understand" and "I didn't mean to scare you" were the right ones but were delivered in an forced and unapologetic way. "I don't want you to report my actions to the authorities" was what it sounded like. I got the kids to school and was happy to get home and focus on something positive.... loading the kiln.