Carpool-Gate 2013

Before I get to "Carpool-Gate 2013" I would like to say that my day started off a little less disgruntled.  Last night the husband did the dishes, mostly, and cleaned the dinner table.  I say mostly because I don't consider it doing the dishes when you rinse them all and stick them on the other side of the sink for someone else to "finish".  But, whatever...every little bit helps, right?

This morning he was up and helping with the kids.  While I dressed one, he dressed the other.  It was like I heard angels singing...can you hear them too?  Made for a nice smooth transition out of the house.  No yelling and crying.  Just everyone filed out and into the car.  He even put the dreaded school bags in the car!!!!!  I was flying pretty high after that.  That is until we got to the carpool lane. 

There's always that impatient person who needs to ride the cars ass in front of it.  I don't like it but there's always that "one guy" in every situation so why not on the highway at speeds of 65+ miles per hour.  The husband is driving and we're about 4 car lengths away from the car in front of us.  On the HOV that leaves room so you don't have to break every freaking five seconds like the ass-hat in front of you...because he's driving on the other persons trunk!  Anyway...back to it.  So the guy behind us is on our ass, trunk, bumper, whatever you want to call it and my husband, being the passive guy that he is (have they invented a sarcastic font yet?) slows down from 60 to about 50.  The guy behind us starts moving all the way to the left to see what the hold up is in front of us.  UM, hello dipshit...you're the problem.  GET OFF MY ASS!  The guy backs up a little but then turns his brights on.  At this point my husband is in no mood to be messed with.  He does a good old fashioned "break check" and I lose my mind.  I hate this tactic.  I always feel like someone is going to follow us and in turn shoot us.  This happens a couple of times because apparently the guy behind us doesn't understand.  I mean why would he?  His brain is full of morning douche-baggery.  Perhaps he needed a Pumpkin Spice Latte from Starbucks?

By the time we get to our exit.  I'm flustered and shaking.  I don't do the whole "break check" thing.  If you want to ride my ass in the HOV, go right ahead.  I will neither go slower or faster.  You'll get there when you get there.  My husband, however, plays the game.  It's a dangerous one.  It scares the shit out of me.  You can't teach people full of douche-baggery lessons on the road.  You only gain a bit of their douche-baggery knowledge.  Let's face it.  We don't need anymore of that going around.

Stop the madness.

So, thank you to the douche-canoe driving the blue Chevy Trailblazer.  You truly set my morning rolling in the opposite direction. I'll pray for you. You need it! 

I'll also be praying for my husband. That he show patience to even those fools (douche-bags) that don't seem deserve it.