Little Eyes, Road Rage & Jesus

September 3, 2018

Last year, I was driving a couple of neighbor kids to school and had an eye-opening experience. The first day, while I was scowling and muttering unkind things in the direction of the car in front of me, they commented that they had never seen me mad before. Their comment stung my heart and I tried to cover it up. I wasn’t mad, just a little frustrated with the other drivers.

(For the record, rush hour traffic jams in Denver, Colorado where we used to live have nothing on the school zone traffic in this small Texas town.)

The next day went even worse. While I was explaining to the car in front of me (that couldn’t hear a word I was saying) that backing up wasn’t an option at this point, the kids all wanted to know all the juicy details. I had visions of them running home to tell their momma just what kind of a driver she had entrusted her precious kiddos with. Unfortunately, the driver of the other vehicle was unaware of my dilemma and angrily peeled away, adding more fuel to the flame of embarrassment that was growing within me.

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