One of my coworkers who recently had a baby was telling me that by seven months her fuse was pretty short. I didn't give it too much thought until today when I was pulling into our driveway and saw some neighbor boys bouncing their basketballs as hard as they could off of a truck (not their truck, mind you). I don't know what came over me, but I rolled down the passenger-side window of my car and sort of freaked out. "Hey, you guys! That is not OK! That's not your truck...blah, blah, blah". It was bad; even worse, however, was the fact that my best friend Emily bore witness (via cellphone) to the whole ugly thing. After thinking about it a bit tonight, I have come to the realization that a big old pregnant lady in a Honda Civic just isn't bad ass enough. I'm convinced that I would have been much more effective had I been driving my 1976 Chevy Vega from high-school (yes...it was orange). It had no muffler and I could have just revved the engine and made those kids scatter! So...either PRH and I are going to have to buy a Vega so I can still yell at the neighbor kids or I'm going to have to just take it down a notch...or two.
Posted by Aesthetic Outburst... at 10:41 PM