Just When You Think It's Safe to Go Back Into the Drop-Off Lane

This morning, the kids and I sat in a line at the High School/Middle School drop-off lane that rivaled anything I ever faced at the elementary school. The family in the pick-up truck causing the traffic jam was completely oblivious to the seven cars behind them, taking their own sweet time to gather their children’s belongings and-I believe-to clean a ton of small objects from the floorboard of the passenger seat.

I say “I think” because, the teenage daughter was clearly stooping over the floorboard, making sweeping and picking motions with her hands and the time involved in the activity would indicate that she was removing a metric ton of objects and that they were obviously very small objects because, although I was only two cars behind the truck; I could not clearly see what the objects were. Although, now that I think about it, the fuckers could have just been messing with us for sport which; makes me even more angry than I was while sitting, trapped, in my car.

I am, like, Hulk-angry. Thanks, drop-off-line-blocking-assholes! Thanks for making me flashback to that one time when a woman spent five minutes blocking the drop-off line at the elementary school while she braided her daughter’s hair. Thanks! You made me grumpy, damnit!

Or, it could just be that, as the end of Lent draws near; I am experiencing Chocolate Rage, rage that would be triggered by something even less annoying than a drop-off-line blocker, like, I don't know, one's husband breathing loudly through his nose. Which, is just a random example, I mean, obviously.

Oh well, it's nothing that munching the ears off a Godiva bunny couldn’t cure. As an aside, did you know that you can pick up a two-pound Godiva chocolate bunny at Target? For just $9.99, even. Not that I have personal experience with such a purchase but, if I were going to buy a chocolate bunny, thus ruining the almost eight weeks of healthy eating that I have done, it damn straight would be Godiva and $9.99 would be a helluva deal.

On a slightly related topic, it occurs to me that this post begs not one but two questions; one, why must there always be an asshole in the drop-off line and, two, why am I driving my children to school when we live less than two blocks away and neither child is incapable of walking?

Discuss.