Lights on the Inside
Taking a break from the heavy topics, sometimes a person’s just got to be goofy before the next scary clown arrives. Whatever that means. But really, clowns are so frickin’ scary! Ask my niece, Tracy, who has an intense fear of clowns ever since my mother was babysitting her and popped in the movie, Poltergeist. Tracy was under 10 at the time. But hey, it’s mild in comparison to the time she let my under-10-year-old nephew, Doug, watch The Shining.
Did you see that new platitude up there that I laid (layed?) out for you? (Leslie, thank you for the word, platitude. I didn’t know it before but am going to hug it and squeeze it and love it forevermore!) Look it up if you also aren’t aware of it’s meaning (like I was).
Sometimes a person’s just got to be goofy before the next scary clown arrives ~kitchenlogic
So, speaking of my mother and her filter-less babysitting (wonder where I get my liberalism?) she called me recently. Here you go, I know you love these conversations I have with my mother.
Mom: You’re going to laugh at this!
Me: We’ll see.
Mom: I was driving down Penn, doing 45 in a 30 mph zone when I passed one of those police cars that have the lights on the inside.
Me: An unmarked vehicle. Why were you going so damn fast?
Mom: I flew right past him! Ha!
Me: Yeah. That’s frickin’ hilarious.
Mom: He pulled me over and he said, “Don’t try to trick your way out of a ticket with those good looks of yours!”
Me: He? What? Really?
Mom: He did! And then he told me I had to slow down and he didn’t give me a ticket. Isn’t that funny?
Me (also): Why in the heck were you going 45 in a 30 zone?
Mom: You know I have a lead foot!
Me: I know you have a lead foot and you know you have a lead foot. Why don’t you stop with the lead foot!
Mom: I don’t know. I can’t help it.
Me: You can help it. You have nowhere you need to be in such a hurry. Slow the hell down!
Mom: I have a lead foot.
Me: Christ on a cracker, mom! Slow down!
Mom: Wasn’t he the nicest policeman? And I didn’t even know he was a policeman with that car with the inside lights!
I kind of wish the flirting-with-84 police officer would give her a ticket. We need documentation for the day we have to force speed-demon Betty off the roads!
Speaking of speed demons. Yesterday afternoon, while driving through rush hour traffic to get home after a long day’s work, I got behind someone who was behind someone who was going the speed limit. 30 in a 30. Who in the hell goes 30 in a 30? Jesus! Go 34!
Oh! I was ticked about this. It had already taken eternity to get to this part of my drive home and here was this fucker going the damn speed limit! (Who’s Betty’s daughter?) I was so excited when I saw this person turn on their blinker (rule follower!) but was then surprised when that person was turning into my little brother’s driveway. It was my law-abiding little sister-in-law!
Definitely not related by blood, slow poke!