When we are in Los Angeles, I EXPECT people to be rude and drive like they just robbed a bank and are evading the police. It is a given that in a city of 3.82 million people, getting from place to place will be challenging.
But, when I come to Little Rock, I expect to drive with respectful drivers who are patient and friendly. Is that unreasonable? It's how I remember it before we left for LA. Well, that has not been the case this week as Cole has gotten behind the wheel to practice driving before he gets his license. I have gotten so mad at drivers that I am now thinking he would be safer driving in LA. I am also considering buying a horn that sounds like a machine gun and installing a mechanism that allows my head lights to drop down and RPG's (rocket propelled grenades) to shoot out at chosen targets.
Since we live in Ferndale, I thought Kanis road would be a perfect place for Cole to cut his teeth behind the wheel. With a 45 mph speed limit and a windy road, it is quiet with no traffic lights and perfect for cruising. The only problem is that every day this week, we have encountered "Bubba" who must have been in a hurry to get to his fishing hole so he feels the need to tail gate and flash his lights because Cole is driving the speed limit. Or, Mr. BMWr man who yelled out his window at Cole because Cole was cautious and waited until there were no cars coming before pulling out into traffic. Makes my blood boil!
I was so mad last night that I made these signs to put on the back of our car but Brad thought they were a bad idea.
In Australia, they have special license plates to indicate that driver's are driving with a permit or have less than 200 hours driving experience. Honestly, it makes perfect sense to me.
So, while I try to stay calm and not teach Cole any words he should not be using, I am wondering how in the world my mother survived while teaching me to drive. I knew she had nerves of steel but I am realizing now that she is really Super Woman and she must tuck her cape into her jeans so I can't see it.
If you see a black Toyota Highlander on the Arkansas roads with a cute young man at the wheel and a passenger that looks like she escaped from the local mental hospital, please be polite, say a prayer and call me for a Girl's Night Out. I am going to need it!
I am considering the advice that Spencer gave me; when life hands you lemons, freeze the lemons and then throw them at people. Seems like the only logical thing to do.
"Be for me a great rock of safety..."