It's parent/teacher conferences this week at E-man's school which means he has to attend the morning session of Kindergarten instead of the afternoon like he normally does. What this also means is that we are now part of the morning traffic jam in the school parking lot as well. Joy.
Let me just say that if love is a battlefield, then it's no wonder the school parking lot has me all hot and bothered.
It's like bumper cars but with deductibles. There is no such thing as order, at least not from what I gather, and even more frustrating is how people - and by people I mean parents for god sake - don't feel like the rules apply to them.
Somebody tell the lady with the butt cleavage that no one is parking next to the red curb because it's ILLEGAL, not because we're saving it for her. If someone could also tell the man with the Prius that his little sticker that gives him a free pass in the carpool lane on the freeway does not also give him permission to hop the curb with his ten-speed wheels and park at the bike rack, that would be fantastic. If lady with the overexposed plastic surgery could cover that shit up and leave her clear heeled stripper shoes at home next time, I'd consider it a personal favor.
This morning, my mind adrift watching the madness, I briefly considered basing my political views on which asshole is toting which candidate's bumper sticker on their back windshield.
Jerk with the Obama/Biden sticker that just pulled in front of me? Fine. McCain it is.
Oh. Wait...
Homegirl with the "McCain/Palin" sticker and an 8 year old "W" sticker on her bumper just let her daughter dart through traffic so she could carry on a conversation with another mother. Mama for Obama it is.
Maybe both camps should consider who they hand out their propaganda too. Just sayin'.
If these assholes who think they can park wherever, drive wherever and drive twice the limit while 6 year olds play a real life version of Frogger trying to get to class could pull their heads out of their asses, the whole dropping off and picking up thing would go a lot smoother.
That might sound a little bit bitchy of me but a) I'm a bitch and b) seriously, people, the school parking lot is only slightly less dangerous than that of a parking lot adjacent to a pharmacy where gray-hairs are playing kiss-the-bumper-of-the-car-in-front-of-them and mix-the-medication daily. And that's sayin' something.
It makes me want to four-wheel drive over some of these dumbasses, just to make a point. Or to earn some. The lady with her ass hanging out of the bottom of her mini skirt? 10 points. The man staring at the lady with her ass hanging out of the bottom of her mini skirt? 5 points. The jackass screaming at his little girl because she accidentally dropped her homework folder? 20 points. Handsome dad with the day-old stubble and track pants? Exempt.
(I hope there's a redemption booth where I can cash in all my points for a sweeeeet prize. 'Cause I play to win. And I might need new tires after this.)
Also hazards on the road? The girl with the super sparkly backpack that just blinded me. I thought it was the second coming, but no, just a bedazzling gone wrong. That shit is dangerous. Limit the sparkle factor, people. The woman putting on her make-up as she attempts to parallel park becomes the spokesperson for a make-up don't and takes out a small child via her front bumper at the same time. It ain't right.
[I never put on make-up while driving because a) I'm not that talented and b) it's against my religion. The most I'm allowed to do according the Scared Sephora is perform a liptease with my Burt's Bees Beeswax Lip Balm. And that doesn't count.]
And I'm all for being part of that elitist "be a part of the solution and not the problem" theory, but frankly, every time I flip someone off as a courtesy reminder that their head is wedged up their ass crack again, the driving conditions seem to become all the more precarious.
I was just trying to help...
When E-man was at HCLJPLP, I kept the cussing to a minimum when the god-loving folk cut me off to grab the last parking spot. Instead, I just rolled my window down and yelled at the top of my lungs, "HOW VERY CHRISTIAN OF YOU!!!" Because I understand tact. But this is public school people, I can say whatever the hell I want and they can't even say the g-o-d word to me, let alone put the fear of him in me.
HA! I win!
(But here I still am, scared to move from my semi-safe position at the curb in the school parking lot, so really, there are no winners here.)
I mean really people, most of it comes down to following the rules and taking turns. Which ironically, are things our kids will probably be learning in school today. If they survive the parking lot.
