Bad Girl, Bad Girl, Whatcha Gonna Do When They Come for You?

Alternate Title: How to blow $135 dollars without even trying: a tutorial.

Did you know that The Son and I went to go see the Tarksandsons this weekend?  Well we did.  We drove several hours with Cars on repeat in the portable DVD player to a lovely town called Mount WherethehellistheMountain.   It is twenty minutes west of Mount ThisplaceisasflatasCalistaFlockhart’schest.  Misnomers aside, it was a great trip.  It made me realize how much I really miss my friends, and how they need to hurry up and move home.

I had to rush back on Sunday afternoon because I had a meeting at church.  I had been stuck behind this powder blue Oldsmobile for an hour.  Traffic was pretty heavy even though all that was in the area were trees.  Lots and Lots of trees.  So that you can get a proper understanding of the events that transpired, we shall have a dramatic reenactment using some of the nine million toy cars and trucks we have here at Huckablog world headquarters.

We do not have a Huckablazer HotWheel, so the part of the Huckablazer will be played by a blueish silver Shelby Concept car, just because I can. The part of the Oldsmobile will be played by the blue 3 race car.

Unbeknownst (spell check does not recognize unbeknownst, but it is too a word.  Right?) to me, a State Policeman had found the one gap in the trees to park.

I slowly but surely passed the oldsmobile and another old person car.  There was a big eighteen wheeler hogging more than his share of the road so I waited for a chance to pass him.

An Aerial view.

Then a giant toddler zoomed in from above and smashed the highway to smithereens.  Oh, wait. No, that only happened in the dramatized re-enactment.

Where were we? Oh yes, I was waiting to pass the big truck.  Cop was hiding. Toddler was now playing with The Husband.

All of a sudden the big truck slowed down a bit (I wonder why?) so I took the chance to speed up and pass him…right next to the cop.

He turned on his lights immediately.  I said more than “Oh, Snap.”

He got right behind me, and I knew what was coming.

I pulled over on to the ledge of the highway with cars zooming past.

I said that I was just passing!  I tried to explain that I had a meeting.  I said that the music from Cars‘ race scene MADE me go faster.  You can guess what happened next.

And just to rub salt in an already broke-who-has-$135-to-mail-me wound, I got behind that same blue oldsmobile again, and had to stay there the whole rest of the way home.

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