We need Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel STAT.
Waiting in traffic.
Those of us who have moved to small town-burbia have lost any tolerance to waiting in traffic.
Those who have always lived a traffic-jamless existence can’t hardly wait 45 seconds at the stoplight.
This week has been Hell on all of us.
You can’t get your hair done or go to Chick-Fil-A without hearing where “they” are at the moment. In town, on the by-pass or in front of you-know-who’s porch.
Actually in town, it’s just been the last 48 hours, but its seemed like weeks and weeks of this….
And this…
And this…
All caused by this thing…
Right now there is such a cluster of dump trucks, Mike Mulligan’s slow poke cousin and 5 o’clock traffic going on in front of me sitting on the porch, it’s quite entertaining.
Did I really write that much less think that?
Guess next I’ll be out at the airstrip with a remote control plane.
NEWSFLASH: I just heard shouting to-and-fro from the large tan men wearing jeans and yellow Day-Glo vests in front of my house about wanting to go with just one lane on Monday (or was that before Monday).
All I heard was the one lane part.
AAAHHHHH.
Guess I’ll have to take the back roads to the airstrip.
Do you have to battle traffic daily?
Love this post.
I am in denial that my first born daughter is going to be in 5th grade this August which is MIDDLE SCHOOL for us. GAH. Not liking that at all. Having all sorts of more grown up conversations with her. She still calls me mommy, though (when no one is listening) and sleeps with her stuffed Mickey Mouse.
This parenting and letting go thing is hard, isn’t it!?