“Oh, you don’t want to do that.” I warned.
Kaila was running her hands all over my SUV’s back tire.
“Well, let’s say it touched something icky. For example, what if I ran over a squirrel?”
“Why would you do that?” Kaila was backing away, staring at me, horrified.
“Well, I mean by accident, of course!”
“Why wouldn’t you avoid it?” Madan chimed in.
“Of course I’d try to avoid the squirrel. But, sometimes mistakes happen!” What the hell? Why the rodent inquisition? Sometimes I’d pay my kids a penny to keep their damn thoughts.
“You should try harder.” Madan said being totally judgmental about his mother’s driving.
“So, I should swerve to miss the squirrel, hit a tree and end up in the hospital with my head cracked open like an egg? Then, I’d miss my favorite class at the gym.” I love exacting guilt through hyperbole.
“That makes no sense, Mom.”
Yeah? What part? I had forgotten. My son has no compassion for his mother — just like I have no compassion for furry little rodents. The apple does not fall far…
“Since when do you love squirrels?” I responded, “You got a Yankee Flipper bird feeder for your birthday so you could watch squirrels go for a 60 mph spin and then fling off into space!”
“That’s different. That’s funny. Running over squirrels is not.”
Do you like my new bumper sticker? I made the Doobies buy it for me with their allowance.