A Letter to a Punk

Inspired by today's events, I present to you a letter I will never give, to a jerk who needs a wake up call.

Dear Punk,

Did you feel cool giving me the middle finger after almost running over my daughter and me? Do you feel a detached sense of yourself to fellow humans that allows you not feel remorse? Good for you. You will go on with your life hurting many people, emotionally and physically. We almost became the latter. Maybe it's the thrill that turns you on. Do you want to see our blood on your windshield? Do you want the street cred that living in a small town denies you?

Let me tell you what a normal person would have done in your situation. When they drive through a busy parking lot, normal people watch for pedestrians (they are the people walking to and from their cars, by the way). I know big words confuse you.  If they should see one of these pe-des-tri-ans, they don't speed up hoping that person will just move. They slow down knowing they could be charged with homicide. You see, there are people that have little legs called children that can't move as fast as you would like them to. Hard to imagine, but you were one of those helpless little people yourself in a time long ago...like 5 years ago.

I had to yell at you to slow down. Any protective mother would have done so. Someone had to put you in your place. Someone had to tell you no, maybe it's the first time you heard the word. Maybe you felt one up'ed by me in front of your girlfriend. That's why you gave me the finger. Am I supposed to feel threatened now? Am I supposed to feel that now YOU have the upper hand? Will your girlfriend somehow have more respect for you seeing you're a rebel? Don't be so silly. A MAN would have slowed down. A MAN would have seen a child and downshifted. Your age may show you are a man on your criminal record, but you will never be a real man without a level of compassion. If your girlfriend is white trash like you, you've hit the jackpot. If she is wise, she will leave you to seek out real human contact.

I yelled at you that someday you would have children. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you'll demand that your girlfriend gets an abortion because you'll never be able to love anyone but yourself. Maybe someday you and your wife will struggle for years with infertility, crying together after each negative on the pregnancy tests.  No it's a possibility that you may never have children.  But give me the privilege of raising the ones I have.

Jerk.

Your friendly small town neighbor,

Karen

Thanks for letting me vent, readers.  This style of blog writing is not my own.  I was inspired by the mom that writes the blog www.suburbanturmoil.blogspot.com.  She had written a letter to a childless young woman annoyed at her own child's presence.  It's a very therapeutic way of writing. And the moral of the story?  If you or your teen are an aggressive driver...stop being one.  Let your teen know they are mortal.  Dying happens too easily everyday, often for stupid reasons.