I'm not really sure the exact moment it happens to mothers. Is it the second that bloody, icky mess of a newborn pops out of the womb? Is it the first time the tyke straps on a backpack and poses for pictures on the front porch en route to kindergarten? Regardless of when it happens, I'm convinced that it happens with at least 95% of women... at least in our neighborhood. What is "it," you're wondering? A ha... I'm so happy you asked.
"It" would be that mothers in mini-vans (or maybe even more annoying, giant SUVs they haven't mastered how to drive) suddenly lose all common sense, common decency, and throw their manners out the window when it comes to driving. And parking. Which somehow equates to driving their mini-van into my grass and subsequently parking there to wait on their mangy-ass middle-schoolers to dismiss each day. More on that in a minute.
First, let me address the lack of common sense and decency toward other drivers. We live near an elementary school and the middle school... which means that in the morning, I'm battling the exiting car line of wee ones and in the afternoon, our yard is innundated with rebellious pre-teens. Most mornings, I find myself having to restrain from flipping the bird or screaming out the window to at least one clueless female driver coming to or from the school. I am continuously cut off, tailgated, or almost side-swiped. Do you suddenly become so involved in staring at your offspring that you are completely blinded to the outside world? Wouldn't you think not paying attention would lead to perhaps more potential for say, an accident? Not to mention the opposite "speed" issues with them driving 4 miles per hour through our neighborhood or "jogging" their kids to school and stopping at the edge of my driveway with their stroller large enough to fit 2 full-grown adults when I clearly have on my reverse lights.
BITCH, MOVE! If your child is school age, they should NOT BE IN A DAMN STROLLER!!!!
About a year and a half ago, Puff and I met at The Bungalow in the mid-afternoon to head to an appointment. Having not typically been at the house during middle school dismissal, we were previously unaware of the brewing trouble. Those obnoxious, careless soccer moms were refusing to commit to sitting in the car line, so they sat on the side street, which isn't really wide enough for parked traffic, so they just took it upon themselves to pull into our grass. And I'm not talking half of one set of tires... I'm talking full-on, entire car off the pavement and in our yard. When it got to the point where we were noticing that our grass was dying and there were mud-filled tire divets after a heavy rain, I took matters into my own hands. Up went those tacky orange flags that you see at construction sites. I had a definite inner-struggle to decide whether to throw a box of nails out there in the hopes of tire damage or (my personal favorite) hiring a large, black man to sit in a lawn chair in the front yard wearing only daisy dukes and offer lollipops to the kids as they trekked through our yard to their car. I'm not sure why Puff didn't like that idea.
After failed attempts to get the school involved, and finding it ridiculous to attempt to call the police ("Yes, I'd like an officer to come out to scare away some housewives please"), we swallowed our pride and bought some chain and stanchion as a more permanent solution.
(Not our yard... ours is void of giant unexplained UFO cirlces)
While it does pain me that I never got to see someone pretend to come on to middle schoolers in an attempt to freak out their mothers, I guess we made the right call. Now, if I'm ever home in the afternoon, I get the joy of watching the tiny women in their monstrous SUVs attempt to not drive into our yard, all the while blocking the road from on-coming traffic. One of these days they're going to try to squeeze through a space that's too small and scrape up the sides of their precious cars.
And that will be a bright spot in my day.