The Law Breaker

I’m not sure about you…but the mere presence of a police car makes me nervous. I immediately tense up once I spy Smokey Bear behind me…even without his blue light going. Instantly I feel guilty…like I just did something to break the law. Kat the Law Breaker.

Geez, what did I do now? I immediately go through my list of possible infractions. Did I run a red light? Nope. That light was a pale red…doesn’t count. Was I speeding? Nope. Every knucklehead drives 5mph over the limit. Did I rob a bank? Nope. Not this week. Could I be wanted in 5 counties? Wait, I do have an evil twin. I know… It's probably the firearms and explosives in my glove box.

So the first thing I do is slow down…even though I’m really a law abiding citizen. I take my foot off the gas pedal and coast. Then I try to display excellent driving skills…drive within the lines…not run a stop sign…not give the finger. But the harder I try to drive properly…the worse I get. I feel the pressure like when I was 16 and took my driver’s test. I start making wide turns, forget my blinker, and run over small children.

This feeling of impending doom, brought on by looming authority, must be how the kids who attended Catholic school felt during handwriting class when they were learning cursive. When the nun stood over their desks with the ruler….waiting to knuckle them when they made a cursive “m” with one too many humps. I hear nothing pisses them off more than a cursive “m” with an extra hump.

The feisty side of me…Rebellious Kat thinks…what if I throw this good driving stuff out the passenger window and put the pedal to the medal and pull a regular O.J. ...have the police come after me in a full-blown car chase. Heck…I’ll take even one for the Catholic kids...knock the nun on her butt and take off down the hall, through the front doors of the school………..Catch Me if you can!!

Sorry. That was just a silly rebellious Kat fantasy. You know this Kat is not that wild and crazy. Although upon occasion I do throw in an extra hump when I sign a note to the kids, “love, mom”…and when I handwrite the sentence: The commanding commando Communist commutes to the commissary as a common commitment with the community of Commandants. The humps just keep coming.

No commmments or commmmmentary, PLEASE!