The Road to Shell is Paved With Good Intentions

I have a tendency to speak to and about other drivers on the road, a fact that hasn't been lost on my daughter.

Today, a woman stopped and let me make a difficult left-hand turn (right-hand turn for those of you who drive on the wrong side of the road;) and I said aloud, "Thanks, lady! You're the best."

"Mom," my little backseat driver spoke up, "Why did you say 'Thanks, lady! You're the best'?"

"Because she stopped and let me make a left-hand turn. That was really nice of her."

"Did she use her signal?" (Since when did my daughter know about using signals?)

"No, honey. She just waved me with her hand. She signaled with her hand that I could go ahead of her.""

"She didn't use her signal?"

"Well, yes, she used her signal, too, because she was also about to make a turn."

"Hmmm. That was thoughtful of her. To use her signal and her hand."

"Yes! Yes, it was. She's a thoughtful driver."

"You're a thoughtful driver, Mom."

"I try to be."

"You and the lady aren't ... what do you call drivers who aren't thoughtful?" Here she paused. I was waiting for a particular naughty word to come out of her mouth. I cringed with guilt, then sighed with relief when she said, "Clowns. You're not clowns."

"Hmm. Thanks, honey.


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About this sign:

It's tall.

It's so special, it's been declared an historic landmark <insert slight eye roll here> in the town that is home to the oldest university in the US.