During one of my twice daily round-trips to Tommy’s school last week, the normal light-speed of the Parkway was interrupted by a car that belonged on back roads with the other people who drive terrible. After cutting me off and causing another car so much fear that they blasted their horn, the very bad driver proceeded to travel 20 miles slower than every other car on the road. Because of one car, the traffic on the Parkway went from smooth to more congested than my father’s pre-CABG arteries. Since we were going to the same destination, I was trapped behind the inexplicably awful driver. She came to a complete stop while turning to enter the campus. Traffic in both directions on the two lane road came to a screeching halt. I guess she was unhappy with the turn, because she suddenly backed up, oblivious to the the cars in her path.

“Tommy, I think she’s going to hit us.”
“I know her. She’s in my class.”
“Is she on drugs?”
“No. She’s always bossing people around and ignores people who try to talk to her.”
“Maybe she has Aspergers. It would explain her driving technique.”
“No Aspergers. Just an a**.”

This gets filed under “first use of colorful metaphors in front of mom” as well as “properly executed joke.” Although neither is included in traditional memory books, both are significant.