Because it is one thing to be a contender for the Darwin Award. It is something else entirely to take your children down with you.

Ya'll.  I am so angry.

I had to go over to my sister's early this morning.  Her alarm has been malfunctioning and went off several times in the middle of the night.  She's out of town, and I'm number two on the security company's call list.  I asked the alarm company to put her system on "test" until 10 AM, so I could get some sleep and head over there after Banner was awake and fed.

So, around 9 AM, I got into the car while Banner and Trevor were busy watching The Animal Sounds Song on You Tube.  Amy lives only about a mile away, so nothing about my journey took very long.

I exited off the main road onto her street, and slowed down for the narrow, 90 degree turn that her street makes about a tenth of a mile into her residential neighborhood.  There are always cars parked along this curve, and I drive a SUV.  It is impossible to take this turn going faster than 15 miles per hour (at least in my car), and I'm not just saying that because of the following story.  It is just one of those sharp turns.  I know it is there and it is difficult to see any other cars coming in the other direction.  It is simply necessary to slow down when approaching it.

And it is a good thing I did, because walking down the middle of the street on the far side of the curve was a gaggle of mothers and their children.

Again.  They were WALKING.  Down the MIDDLE of the EFFING street.  With their children.

I counted seven mothers.  Each pushing a stroller with at least one kid in it.  Several even had an infants in Bjorns strapped to their chests.

At first I didn't think very much of it.  I pulled up behind one of the parked cars along the wide end of the curve and slowed to a stop to let them all pass.  And that is when one of the mothers, wearing a long, black, strapless maxi dress, walked over to my car, banged on my driver's side window and shouted, "You need to slow down when driving through OUR neighborhood.  There are children here!"

Like I couldn't see them all standing there in the middle of the road.

But I said nothing.  Just stared back at her and blinked.

Never in my life have I wanted to yell at someone so much.  And I probably would have if there hadn't been at least ten children under the age of three with her and her other mom friends.  Because regardless of the fact that I was driving about 5 miles per hour under the max speed of most school zones in the City of Dallas, these moms were intentionally walking their children down the middle of the street right before what is essentially a blind curve.  What if I hadn't been familiar with the turn?  What if I was driving a sportier, turn-loving car?  What if Amy didn't live only a few houses down from this particular bend in the road?  What if I had been speeding?  Or not paying attention?  They all could have been plowed over like bowling pins!

Not to mention the fact that these moms were teaching their kids that it is acceptable to walk down the middle of the street in an area with perfectly good sidewalks on both sides of the block.  And I'm typing this knowing full well that there are parts of my neighborhood where I have no choice but to push the stroller in the street.  But it is always by necessity, not choice.  And owing to the fact that I don't want to get hit by a car, I always hug the curb.  It would never occur to me to march my baby down the middle of the road meant for vehicular traffic like that, nor would I ever feel comfortable doing so in the first place - especially so close to a curve where I can't see oncoming traffic or they me.

Instead of saying any of this to the b*tch in the black maxi dress, though, I just stared at her and waited for them to pass before coasting to Amy's house to deal with the alarm situation.  I'm pretty sure I had visible steam coming out of my ears.

This is one situation where I wish I was better with confrontation, because - the more I think about it - those mothers needed to hear that what they are doing is needlessly reckless and stupid.  They are taking unnecessary risks with their children just so they can walk in a horizontal line down the middle of a road.  I'm sure it is easier to talk and socialize that way, but is it really worth it?

And then for her to have the gall to bang on my car window and call me out?  For what?  Driving?  In the road meant for cars, not playgroups?

Maybe it is just me, but this is one of those situations where I wish I could go back in time and give her a piece of my mind.  If for no other reason than it might resonate with one of the other mothers and convince her to use the bleeping sidewalk.  Because, really?  That is what they are there for.