Driving home. Half an hour past naptime. Making good time, but the clock is ticking.

SUDDENLY (!)

A sedan pulls out in front of me. RIGHT in front of me.

I slam on the brakes. I honk. I barely manage to hold back the bright blue streak of swear words that I want to unleash. Chicken says "car beep!" so I'm extra glad I didn't drop some choice phrases from the prison yard.

That's annoying enough, to have to swerve to avoid a collision.

But then the light in front of me is yellow.

The sedan accelerates and runs the light just as it turns red.

I slow to a stop.

You son of a bitch.

It's bad enough that you almost sideswiped a car holding three souls, two of which are still innocent. But then you were the last car through the light, and as discussed here, sitting in a non-moving car with two young children rates just above unmedicated dental work on the agony scale.

Unless you, too, have two young children in the back of your car who despise red lights, or unless you, yourself, are speeding toward the nearest research hospital with the cures for Ebola, AIDS, and cancer in the trunk of your car, in a cooler packed with ice that will only last for the next 4 minutes, you have no excuse for driving like an asshole, sir.

And I don't think you DO have medical miracles in the trunk of your car, s ir, because if you did you wouldn't have swooped right into the Burger King drive-thru line less than a block past the light where you left me stranded, trapped by my adherence to traffic regulations and inexplicable dedication to the survival of my two screaming/whining overtired offspring.

But you enjoy that Whopper. I hope you get mayo on your necktie.