I was also running late. As I do every school-day I have off.
I'm fairly certain I won't even die on time.
So there I was, tearing through town, driving, as I like to call it, 'like I was born in Massachusetts'. In other words, as if driving like a complete and total %^$#@ is in my blood.
Which it is.
I came out of my neighborhood and saw a traffic jam right there at the lights.
I zipped across three lanes of traffic and took a left. I suspect my left-hand wheels were touching the ground the whole time, but I can't be sure.
I whipped down that street and came out to a T-junction. I needed to go left, but the traffic building up in that lane was already blocking me in.
Someone stopped a little early, giving me the opportunity to turn right, then left, cutting behind the last guy in the traffic line and take up the lane next to him. That worked out because I wanted to take a right.
As I barreled along, using side streets to get around back-ups and blockages, aware that I might be a minute late, it started raining. Hard enough that I didn't want Handsome to have to be standing around in it while he waited for stupid old me!
I slowed down as I entered the school zone, turned the corner to the parking lot behind Handsome's school just as the clock hit 2:30. The kids were exiting the building and I was right there to keep Handsome from getting too wet from the driving rain.
As I pulled up, Handsome came scuffing across the grass. He was kicking the wet grass with his soaked sneakers, and his jacket, rather than being on, was tied to his backpack by one sleeve and dragging on the ground behind him as he seemed to do everything in his power to get as wet as possible.
Son of a %$#@! Why do I bother!?
Talk to you later!