I picked up my grandmother in horrible Chicago-suburban traffic. I have become pretty much Minnesotan and wait until there is adequate room to turn, always use my signal and maintain a respectable following distance. I'm on a little two-lane highway in bumper to bumper traffic. Some guy in a sports car that I assume costs at least 1/2 the price of my home makes a right turn on red completely cutting me off so I have to slam on my breaks (even though I'm going a mind-numbingly slow 15miles an hour).

I fumble looking for my horn, knowing the moment has passed I sigh to myself and sink back into my seat annoyed but beaten down with defeat.

Just as I was about to let it go, my 5ft tall 82-yr old grandmother goes..."ASSHOLE!"

I couldn't help but laugh...my geriatric grandmother who has never driven a day in her life has totally one up'd my road rage. (Shrug) I blame Minnesota nice rubbing off on me.

Labels: Family