Maybe I Need Prayer

As I was taking the kiddos to school this morning I came to an uncontrolled intersection in which three cars (including myself) had arrived at nearly the same time. Technically, I should have been the second car to go according to the "right of way" rule, but I don't assume everyone else is aware of (or follows) the rule, so I waited patiently to see what the other two cars would do first. (No sense in starting my day off with an accident!) The car on my right just sat there and so I gave her a little wave to let her know she was free to go ahead. The car behind me became very impatient with this five second delay, however, and laid on her horn for me to just go.

This irritated me. I hate being honked at when I've done nothing wrong. Honestly, I wanted to flip the lady off-- but I kept my finger to myself since I was in front of my daughter's private Christian school (which hubby also works at). I didn't want someone coming into his classroom later on and asking, "was that your wife I saw flipping the bird earlier this morning? She sure is charming!"

I'm normally not prone to road rage. Really! Steal my intended parking place? Fine, maybe you needed that spot more than I did. Cut me off? I hope you get to your destination faster. Tailgate me? Perhaps I'll just slow down a little to tick you off. (Okay, that wasn't such a good example.) But my point is that I'm a pretty easy-going driver-- until you honk at me for no good reason.

It brought to mind one of my...not so shining moments...when my children got to witness my Christian maturity in action. I was in the parking lot of a supermarket which had arrows painted on the rows to direct traffic. I was pulling out of my parking space and heading in the correct direction of the arrows, when suddenly a car whipped around the corner and we both had to slam on our breaks to avoid a collision. The other car, of course, was going the wrong way. The driver, an old man, proceeded to deliver a colorful diatribe worthy of any sailor. I was ready to tell him where exactly he could put the arrow he was clearly not following, when I remembered I had my two impressionable children in the car with me. Darnit. But as I looked back at the old man, his face twisted in unreasonable anger, I couldn't stop my tongue as it shot out of my mouth and I scrunched my nose up, eyes glaring. Wow. I haven't done that since I was like, 10. Yes, I actually stuck my tongue out at the grumpy old fart. Real mature. But what's worse-- my kids saw.

They were in shock. They had no idea that their mother was capable of such an act of childishness. Ruby Jane gasped, "Mom, did you just stick your tongue out at that man?" I couldn't help but giggle as I told her I indeed had. We all started laughing our fool heads off. Then they asked me what a few of the man's choicer words meant and I stopped laughing. "You don't need to know!" I told them, and we drove off.

My kids still remember that day. The day they discovered their mother is actually human. The day they discovered that mom can put up with a lot, but not with a crabby old man cussing her out. The day they discovered that sticking your tongue out is an offense that can actually be laughed at instead of scolded. (Yeah, that wasn't one of the best lessons I've ever unintentionally taught.)

So, for all of you who are shocked that I would even consider giving the finger to someone-- or even simply sticking out my tongue-- you now know how you can pray for this dreadful sinner. Hey, pobody's nerfect!