Tuesday, February 14, 2006
The transformation is complete.
I tried to fight it. I tried to avoid it. I did whatever I could for it NOT to happen, but the force was just too strong. I. Have. Become. My. Mother. When we were kids, we were all in the car. It was winter time. Mom kept a broom in the back to clear the snow off, it always sat in the back windshield. Some neighbourhood kids (friends of my brother, I think) decided to bumper hitch. What is bumper hitching? There are people who don't know what bumper hitching is? Yikes, around here many winter childhood memories involve bumper hitching in one way or another. Basically, when the roads are snow covered and you wear footwear that is slick on the bottom, you can grab onto the bumper of a passing car and sort of "ski" behind it. Yet, it is dangerous. Yes, it is stupid. Kids are stupid and do dangerous things ;). My mother did not abide stupid and dangerous things. Not only were we not allowed to bumper hitch (I don't think anyone was actually ALLOWED to do it anyway but I digress), she would not allow bumper hitching on her car (again, I don't think there were people that ALLOWED this). Our mother, upon noticing what was going on, did the unthinkable. She stopped, got out, got the broom, and chased the kids down the street with it. You would have thought that she was killing us. We were screaming and squirming "No mom, no!". She returned to the car, vindicated, and told us to shut up ROFL. For days we bumbled around the house muttering "She chased them down the street with the broom". We never did live it down, years afterward we would bump into childhood friends or people from the neighbourhood and they would invariably say "Hey, remember the time your mom chased us down the street with the broom?" or "Hey, remember the time your mom chased those kids down the street with a broom?". We flinch, say yes, emit some nervous laughter, and make an excuse to get on our way. The trauma was THAT DEEP (for scope, this event happened oh, about 27 years ago and it is still as fresh in our minds as the day it happened). Monday we were on our way out when we saw some kids having an altercation. An older boy kicked a younger boy in the back, who then fell into the street. A busy street. A busy street right after a blind curve. Quick as a flash, I was out of the car and screaming like a banshee. "What is wrong with you? You are bigger than he is, you are supposed to know better. He could have been hit by a car and killed. How would you like it if somebody bigger kicked YOU in the back? Or pushed you into the street?!?!". I am sure there was more, I kind of blanked out. To their credit, they did not sass me nor use bad language. And when I told them to GIT ON HOME they scattered like roaches when the light comes on. DH and DD were in the car, screaming and squirming and trying to hide by scrunching down in their seats. I recognized that look in their eyes. I recognized that trauma. I. Have. Become. My. Mother. On a happier note, bestlawn from the kt has combined my little dancing bunny with the address for the blog, and taught me how to paste it as a link in threads. So if you see me post at the KT and see that little dancing bunny, give it a click and you end up HERE! And here is a picture of Ruby, after stealing a candy from DD's valentine stash: