So - the other weekend, on Sunday, my husband, the two children and I were up early. We had our usual weekend breakfast routine of The Daisy Cafe just down the street and then we decided we would like to go to the Henry Vilas Zoo (that's the free zoo here in Madison). As we're driving along, we get to this construction zone where the road is partitioned off by little reflective stick things that funnel the cars off into the appropriate lanes. We're putting along in our old, blue station wagon and crazy from nowhere comes this small, red car zooming right behind us at crazy mach speed and fishtailing and honking at us and scaring the crap out of us. Mind you, this is IN A CONSTRUCTION ZONE (of course, it was Sunday, so no workers out or anything). He can't pass us due to the partition thingys but the second we are past them, he insanely comes along side us and is, let's just say, gesturing, and veering towards our car and we're, um, maybe yelling and perhaps Brandon threw a gesture back...(hey, just being honest), and THEN, he floors it, gets in front of us and STOPS. So, of course, WE have to stop, because, um, crazy man has stopped his car, and I am yelling, "Oh My God! Oh My God! What's he doing?!". At this point, I literally turn into a bear. A mother bear. I really know where the term blind rage comes from, because my memory of the next few seconds is fuzzy and is seen from afar, as if I was watching myself. I know that by now I am in a rage and I remember screaming, "MY CHILDREN ARE IN THIS CAR" as I throw my jacket that I was holding onto the dash and I GET OUT OF THE CAR. Get out isn't really the best descriptor though, more like FLY OUT. I beat Brandon - who, mind you, had also started to get out of the car. He must have still had some sense because I was like, about to vault over his car and beat the sh*t out of this guy. This late middle age, gray haired guy. Seriously. My thoughts are that his guardian angel (or his brain) tapped him on the shoulder and whispered "um, dude, you should probably go because this woman is about to rip your arms off", because he JUMPED back into his little car and screeched the heck out of there. I leapt back into our car, but I was shaking. Shaking and feeling that adrenaline and the mad desire to smash some skull and Brandon and I are like, "whoa, what the F--- just happened here?!"
Of course, after the event, we were left humming with anger and, for lack of a better phrase, unavenged bloodlust. I'll give us props, as we didn't go tearing off after the guy. Poor Ronan started to cry (we calmed him down right away) and thank God Isla was rearfacing, so all she saw was the beige headrest of the back seat. Whew. And, I can only thank the Lord that that crazy fool jumped back into his car because I know with every fiber of my being that I would have tried to fight him, and likely hurt him. So, um, that would have been an assault charge on me... Brandon would have probably, oh hopefully pulled me off and not done anything himself to this guy, or that could have wrecked our lives for good. Like jail, kids in foster homes and court dates and some social service person coming to our house regularly to check in on us "angry people". And hollah! Let's not forget, fighting someone in front of your kid is SO not the parent I want to be! I am a pacifist! I am Costa Rica, for crying out loud! What happened to me? It is scary to know that I was ready to engage! I mean, I always knew I'd do anything to protect my kids, but actually seeing that primal part of me turn on was nuts. Do I have an anger issue? Should I seek counseling? Does anyone else have an experience like this they would enjoy sharing? *crickets*
Oddly, Brandon pointed out that he noticed that the guy had a bunch of hippie peace bumper stickers (so pervasive here in Madison) all over the back of his car. So, what gives? Were we driving too slow at 9:45 a.m. on a Sunday morning in a construction zone for this guy? Was he on drugs? Did he think we were somebody else? Argh! I hope I never really know, or ever see that guy again and I am SO thankful that nothing actually happened that day that I would forever regret, because it could have. Perhaps this was a rather anti-climactic story, as no heads were busted and no one landed in jail with their children being taken by DCS or anything, but heck, if we were bears, and were in the wild, and this had happened? Oh yeah, we'd have been eating gray haired middle aged man that night. No doubt.
Take home lesson: Never mess with bears. Or moms.
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