As I Was Saying...

I was driving The Rose and The Bean to play with some friends. It’s a quick drive—literally no more than about ninety seconds, even at the ridiculously slow speeds I drive; the speed limit in our neighborhood is 30mph, but I think that’s ludicrous given how narrow and winding and hilly the roads are. Add in that it’s a neighborhood that has hundreds of small children, and that from one end to the other is about a half-mile, and the difference between driving 15mph and driving 30mph means you’ll get home maybe twenty seconds later than you would have at the slower speed, while massively increasing the chances you’ll not be able to stop in time should something happen…

As you can see, I have automotive issues with my neighborhood, which I otherwise love. Beautiful joint, great people, some vehicular flaws.

Anyhoo, I’m driving the girls—who are, of course, it goes without saying but I shall say it anyway, all safely buckled in. And I’m going about 15mph because I can afford those extra seven seconds the trip will therefore take by not pushing my speed to the limit. And that turns out to be a very good thing.

Because as I’m driving down the main road through our neighborhood, I’m coming up over a small hill where the road also curves slightly. And just over the hill a sideroad intersects the main road. And I see a grey SUV coming up to the stop sign at that sideroad.

The SUV doesn’t stop. It rolls through the stop sign, even through it’s a little tough to be able to see really well the traffic coming both ways on the main road because of the curve and the hill.

Yet roll through the stop sign the SUV does. And takes a right turn. Which means it’s coming towards me now.

But the SUV makes a wide right turn. A *really* wide right turn. As in, it veers way the hell into my lane.

Now, I have to admit, I hate SUVs. Hate ‘em with a passion, even when they’re driven by people I love and respect dearly (hi, bros!). But when a car is driven in an unsafe manner, it doesn’t so much matter whether it’s an SUV or an old VW Beetle—bad driving’s not going to make me happy no matter what the vehicle. Especially when I’m carrying, as they say, Precious Cargo.

Fortunately, I was going slowly enough that there was no real cause for concern. I needed to do little more than tap my brakes to slow down even more, giving the SUV time to complete its wide right turn and get the hell back into its own damn lane.

I look at the driver as he’s coming towards me, trying to see if I can recognize the either rude or incompetent jackass. Imagine my shock when I realize that the driver is a seven-year-old boy.

My heart stopped as a thousand thoughts flooded my mind. Clearly he’d taken the SUV without permission and was going for a little joyride. I was going to have to quickly turn around and follow him to make sure he was okay and somehow try to get him to stop. But how was I going to be able to do that without freaking him out and maybe panicking him, causing him to do something very much ungood? For that matter, how was he even reaching the pedals?

All this ran through my pea-sized brain in a matter of about a second and a half. Which is when the SUV passed me. And I saw that the little boy was sitting in the lap of his mother.

Neither of them even glanced in my direction as they drove on their way.

Comments

[Scott]

I should point out, for the record, that the mother in the SUV is one of the kindest, most generous and thoughtful women I’ve ever met. What’s more, I’ve never, ever met a mother more dedicated to her children (with the obvious exception of Top Management, up to whom none can measure—and, yes, I know how ridiculous that sentence turned out to be and really quite enjoy it, which isn’t to say that I don’t believe the sentiment with every fibre of my being).

Anyhoo, she's an awesome person. And that just makes the experience all that much odder.

[Caryn]

I'm aghast. Please fill us in if there are any updates. (As in, she brings it up at the next neighborhood barbecue, etc.)