The last time I drove behind this particular late model sedan, I was irritated. This time I got mad.
Let me explain.
About three weeks ago I was driving my kids to school and ended up behind an erratically driving sedan. They drove between five and 12 miles per hour and turned on their turn signals at seemingly random times.
There were three little kids in the backseat. And none of them were wearing seatbelts. I could tell because they were jumping around and poking each other.
I try really hard not to be a judgmental person. I don’t want to be the asshole who is telling other people how to live their lives. But this kind of made my skin crawl. Because not only were these kids unprotected in case of a car accident, but the woman driving was such a bad driver that it was like she was asking to be hit.
It seemed that there was an elderly couple in the front seat, so I made a little wish that they were filling in for the kids’ parents and that was why they didn’t have car seats. And they were bad drivers because they rarely drove.
I made up a whole little story about them. I had time because I followed them to the school, through the drop off line, and back up my street until they finally turned onto a side street. And they drove erratically the entire time.
Fast forward to today. I turned onto the street leading to our school and cursed the car ahead of me that was driving nine miles an hour. Then I saw the three kids in the backseat, bouncing happily around all over. And I realized it was the same car.
I don’t know who these people are. Short of jumping out of my car and accosting them at drop off if I happen to see them again, there is nothing I can do.
I just think of all the people who die in car crashes—my father was one of them—and how many lives are saved if people just put on their fucking seatbelts. These are kids. I wish their drivers would look out for them.