It’s Hard Out There For a Pimp

Valentine’s came and went this year with all the usual fanfare.  The kids showed great enthusiasm for ye old day o’ love, which was sweet.  Sam treated me royally, which was also sweet.  And I didn’t get another ticket from Officer Friendly, which was super sweet.  Oh…did I not tell you about that?

Earlier last week, my 1.5 year-old caught his sister’s cold.  When Master Princeling catches a cold, sailors beware.  I drove to school on Monday morning amidst high decibel whining and shouting.  And by shouting, I mean the repeated screaming of a single word until I lose my mind.  Examples include, “Down!”  (he wants the window down), “Aqua!” (he’s dropped his water and wants me to climb back and get it for him while I’m driving), and “Mine” (usually refers to an object that he was holding, but has now lost to his sister).  It’s exhausting.

Quickly I pulled up to school in the yellow zone and handed off my daughter to some hapless parent who was walking in at the same time.  My darling older child gave me a hug and a kiss and marched in for all the world a woman of her own.  Yes, I nodded to myself, that one’s going to be just fine.  And then like a whirling dervish, I was off again.  The backseat was noisy.  Master Princeling wanted home.  I drove like the wind.  My one coherent thought in the insane chaos was simple: get baby to bed, get baby to bed.  And then Officer Friendly joined the circus.

Of course, the flashing lights and strobe party quieted the Princeling right down.  Please, Officer Friendly, I begged – a warning will suffice.  The Princeling has me losing my mind and I need to get home to take my tonic.  Two shots of wart hog makes the medicine go down, Guinness is brown, put that gun on the ground…

Officer Friendly was not swayed by the crazy in my eyes nor my melodious singing voice.  I am now the proud owner of my very own traffic citation.  Whoo Hoo!

It’s hard out there for a pimp.

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