Yeah, you. There. In the minivan. Talking on your cellphone. Eating a donut. Or whatever that heart-attack-waiting-to-happen pastry is that’s in your hand and heading towards your mouth.
Yeah, you. At the corner. A block away from my kid’s school.
Have you seen me yet? You haven’t? No, of course you haven’t. Because you’re talking on your phone. You must be having the world’s Most Important Conversation Ever (MICE), because what else would distract you so much that you haven’t noticed that I took one step into the intersection before you even got there. And that I have a 3 year old boy in my left hand and a 6 year old boy in my right hand. And that we were going to cross the street.
Yeah, baby. That’s me. Superdaddy. Spying you coming, talking on your Nokia, gobbling on your Krispy Kreme and your tall non-fat drive-through Starbucks mocha, (hold the whip) about a half a block away. And stopping myself and two little boys from continuing our cross – THAT WE HAD ALREADY STARTED – because you looked like you were having the MICE and that you couldn’t be bothered with the fact that we were crossing the street.
Yeah, that’s you. There, in the minivan. You must have kids of your own, right? Why else would you drive a minivan? Sure, you have kids of your own. Did you drop them off at school? Before you drove through the Starbucks and got that phone call? You did? And they were safe, right?
That’s right, they were safe. Because they didn’t have to cross the street with idiots like you on the road.
Oh, wait, now you’re pulling through the intersection. On your way to what must be the world’s Most Important Meeting Ever (MIME), because you STILL HAVEN’T SEEN THE THREE OF US STANDING THERE WAITING TO CROSS THE FREAKING STREET and yet you continue on. To your MIME. Or wherever the hell morons like you go at 9:00 in the morning. You’re pulling through the intersection, and you’re looking left – or so it appears – even though there’s a 42 year old Dad and his 3 and 6 year old sons not 3 feet away from your van ON THE RIGHT. If the 42 year old Dad hadn’t stopped his 3 and 6 year old sons from crossing the street when he spotted your distracted fat ass barreling down ½ block away from him and 1 block away from THE FREAKING ELEMENTARY SCHOOL we’d be sitting here talking about an entirely different situation now, wouldn’t we?
Yes, we would. You’re a moron now; you could easily have been a moron in jail. For a very very long time. With a lot on your mind. Namely, how if maybe you’d been paying attention the morning of February 12th, 2007 and not gabbing to your Bridge Club mate Betty on your cell phone and chowing down on a Winchell’s Bear Claw maybe you would have seen ¾ of my family crossing the street and not run them over.
Then again, I’m giving you too much credit, aren’t I?
Please, pay attention.