(All caused because some mother driver tried to change the Spongebob DVD for her kids…)
There's a menace on our streets and highways. And it isn't adulterers, squirrels, horny teenagers or even old drunks. It's mothers driving. You heard it correctly. Female parents operating automobiles are the most dangerous nuisance on the asphalt.
I know, because the last five times somebody has hit me, it's been a soccer mom driving her brats around. It's always the same excuse, "I'm late for Jimmy's mandolin lessons and Jenny wants to watch Mommy get highlights in her bangs." Or the classic, "I just turned around to yell at the kids for a moment. I forgot that I was driving a six-ton SUV on a road packed with innocent people. But I did manage to tell my children I loved them in the time it took to put my bumper through your driver-side window. And that's all the matters, isn't it?"
Then there are the near misses. The mother driver who almost hit me yesterday just smiled and waved after she forgot the parking garage she sped through circled downward. The day before that, a mother driver zipping in and out of traffic almost ran me off the road, then did the "I'm sorry" shrug and waved her still-glowing-from-a-recently-sent-or-read-text-message cell phone at me.
So it's time to do something about these risks on the roads. We need to enforce a three-strike policy.
First strike, being a female. We all know the weaker sex is irrational, feeds on koala bear blood and can't complete thoughts unrelated to shopping or Oprah.
The second strike is being a mom. This instantly reverts women to include this phrase in every three sentences she says, "You just don't know how invigorating/hard/life-changing/wonderful/fun/time-consuming being a mother is." Actually, I do know how hard it is to be a mother because I've done it all before. All you do is open the cage; kick whatever your watching to make sure it's still alive; toss in a fried, boiled, baked or raw potato; spray it down every other week with a fire hose and shut the cage door. Big deal. Where's my frikkin' march and box of pink chocolates?
The third strike is if a peace officer or male citizen sees a mother driver doing something stupid, bam! They confiscate the car, donate the child to Haiti and slice up the mother driver's license right there.
(She didn't make it to the linen sale on time, but she also didn't break a nail…)
Now, there are exceptions. My grandma is a better driver than my grandpa, but he's deaf, pretty much blind and drunk most of the time. So that's like saying Obama is a better president than Jimmy Carter because he's a better basketball player (truth is, they both suck).
I know people are going to say, "Geez KC, you're such a fucking asshole. You have a mother and I'm sure she drove you around. You need to learn to appreciate that."
That's all true. But I won't be the first to say it because others have said it before, but I'll say it. "My mom is a retarded driver." She never knows which street she's on, if she sees a garage sale sign she'll blindly cross four lanes of traffic to get there and God forbid her cell phone rings as she's behind the wheel. Now she's trying to operate two machines she completely doesn't understand. It's like asking your dog to update your hard drive while translating 14th-century Spanish to the ghost who lives in your bathroom.
As you can see, we need to end this tyranny on the road. No more mother drivers. If you see a carseat and there's not a male driving, remember: good people's lives are at risk. You should either dial 9-1-1 immediately or do your best to ram the vehicle off the road—preferably into a body of water or toxic waste dump.
I know with your help, and the help of Americans like you, we can end this awful plague of mother drivers trying to share the road with all of us good folk.
***Oh, and don't forget that Mother's Day is May 9th. Make sure to at least send your mom a card or a box of chocolates. I know mine are already in the mail…