The Friendship Bracelet
Open mouth, insert foot, antagonize a phlebotomist.

Asshats have not yet completely taken over the world!

I shared an update on Facebook, praising a good Samaritan for stopping to check if I was alright after having negotiated some very icy roads, earlier this morning. I then added to the comments:

Long-time blog readers will understand EXACTLY how very proud I am, of myself, for NOT losing my sh*t.

I feel the need to expand on this morning's discussion (which is EXACTLY why I love Facebook, btw!), because I am extremely lucky to have been introduced to lots of brand new online friends over my eleventy years of blogging -- someone once called me the "grandmother of blogging", but let's not open THAT wound, m'kay?!? -- and it's sort of awesome to able to share something nice, with you.

Especially, living (and driving) ova here in Jersey.

You might want to grab a warm beverage (or a cold one, if it suits you, I'm easy!), because I'm going to tell you a little story about how I know...FOR A FACT...that asshats have NOT yet completely taken over the world!

I was in my early 20's when I was involved in my first AND last (knocking on wood, until knuckles bleed) major traffic accident.

I was driving home from work, through an industrial park during a blizzard (because, New Jersey), lost control of my car over a set of train tracks, slid across the road and into a chain link fence.

Aaaaand, I would have been fine, if it wasn't for the asshat riding my bumper, who then slid across with me and slammed into the back of my car.

I was driving a beat-up 1974 Chevy Malibu, it was my first car and it took me about a year's worth of riding the bus to save up for that sucker (a.k.a. P.O.S., because other 20-something-year-olds can be very picky, sometimes) and I was thankful for it, too.

I later learned the asshat's shiny-new pick up truck was totaled and was reassured by the emergency response team that my P.O.S. pretty much saved my neck.

My back, not so much.

Nearly a year's worth of physical therapy sessions, later: the chiropractors all pretty much questioned my ability of carrying children, let alone having more than one, without trouble.

Seems I proved them wrong, eh?!?

Even longer story, shorter (you're welcome!): I don't drive in snow (or ice) unless absolutely necessary and have been known to just pull over and walk home or to a neighbor's house.

Aaaand, then I had a gaggle of kids that made it...you know...necessary.

One year, I was picking up my two oldest from an early dismissal, during a terrible blizzard (it WAS SO terrible!) and decided to abandon our minivan in the elementary school's parking lot.

Only AFTER speaking with the principal (because, it was a Friday and towing is expensive!) and then my insisting that...NO!!!!...I am NOT crazy...I would be fine carrying my two youngest, because the two oldest had longer legs and could probably keep ABOVE the snow line, without much trouble.

She didn't even blink an eye.  I remember thinking that she probably wasn't looking forward to driving in the mess, either.  

Thinking on it some more, our school's principal was also probably used to hearing all sorts of crazy stuff from parents, like me, at the time.

Okay, STILL, whatever.

Flash-forward, present day: my oldest has been recovering from a wicked cold and didn't feel comfortable driving herself to work, this morning. 

The thought of her driving at less than 100% trumped my OWN fear of...well...you know...and, if I've learned anything after twenty years of parenting, I know how to prioritize my crazy.

Then, some asshat decides to make his own lane and passes EVERYONE on the on ramp...including us...AS OUR CAR IS ENTERING THE HIGHWAY...and I was suddenly VERY thankful for being able to drive around...with older kids.

[censored, because the younger ones may be reading this]

"What the bleep...are you bleeping kidding me...you bleeping asshat?!?"

So, I decided to take the back roads home to avoid any more asshat-ery and then my brakes gave out.

"ARE YOU OKAY?!?"

I got myself to the bottom of the hill and, while I was calling my husband, watched this dude pull a 360 behind me.  After making it down (a.k.a. the hill of death), he pulled next to me to see if I was okay.

"It's not safe here, can you make it around the corner?"

He then escorted me around the corner to make sure my brakes work...clearly, NOT an asshat...and then three more cars wipe-out...and get into an awful wreck...RIGHT WHERE HE AND I WERE JUST SITTING.

"Soooo, I'm pretty sure you and your brakes are fine...right?!?"

Although he was a young dude, and couldn't have been driving for more than a couple of years, I wanted to kiss him on the mouth...right then and there...but thanked him with a BIG SMILE and wished him nothing but love, for the rest of his life, instead.

"I live right over there, if you don't feel you could make it and need a ride home."

I am VERY proud to tell you that I drove myself home, without losing my sh*t, and NOW you know why.

Asshats may be closer than they seem.

Nevermind that I almost considered walking home, until I realized it was raining icicles and I was still wearing my pajamas, because some things NEVER change, DAMMIT!

Stupid asshats, dumbass polar vortex.

P.S. Hat tip to my long-time friend, Donna: who, with her awesome comment on Facebook, helped me come up with the best blog post title, EVUH!

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