If you have children, then you’ll likely be able to relate.  As I was ready to back out of the driveway this morning on the way to take my 13-year old daughter to school, it happened.  Yes, I dropped the F-bomb.  Not sure what came over me…..maybe it was the fact that we were running 5 minutes late or it could have been that the snowy/icy buildup on my windshield had to be scraped and I was ill-equipped.

Those things added to the fateful moment but the epicenter of my frustration was that darned furniture delivery truck that was moving slowly down our street and slowing as it got to my house.  I’m in reverse trying to rush to make up those 5 minutes, and waiting for the feeling in my hands to come back and this idiot is slowing as he sees me inching back.  It’s not that my car was invisible — it’s dark out at 7:35 and my car is lit up like a Christmas tree.  (Like the way I worked the holidays into my post about the F-bomb?  Nice.)

So now he’s at a stop at the foot of my driveway as I’ve got my neck craned thinking he’ll continue by.  I’m thinking to myself, “who is getting a delivery at this hour? ”  And then it happened.  It just flew out of my mouth as natural as taking my next breath.  I didn’t scream.  I din’t make any hand gestures.  No popping veins in my neck.  I simply uttered “what the f*%k man?”  And I realized it just as I said it.  I stopped and looked at my wide-eyed, innocent baby and just as calmly said, “pardon my language sweetheart, but this guy stopped and I got upset.”

Not a word.  The truck backed up, as though he heard me, and I backed out of the driveway and was on my way.  Total silence for the first mile of our 3-mile drive to the carpool house, except for the first block as we pulled away and I wondered out loud (like a babbling idiot) if we were expecting a delivery — actually asking out loud if mom had ordered something, told me be ready for it, and I just forgot that she told me.  (Like that has ever happened!)  My mind was racing as to what she might be thinking.  Oh sure, I had similar moments with her 3 older brothers — remarkably, those didn’t happen until a bit later, like around the age of 16 or 17 for them — but this was my BABY.  The one who worships the ground I walk on (or at least I like to think she does).  Oh yeah, this was killing me.  Finally had to break the silence and  apologized again for using that word and admitted that it wasn’t appropriate, telling her I must’ve lost my cool.

She either was still shocked and disappointed or really couldn’t care less, but she played it cool and quiet, then reached over and turned on the radio.  And I know the question that is burning inside of you right now, and NO, we weren’t late for the carpool.