“F*&*K!” “F&*K! Get out of my way!” These expletives were yelled from the pint-sized mouth of a tiny 3-year-old as she banged her hands on the steering wheel of a Little Tikes Cozy Coupe Car. She aggressively whipped her head back to look for cars behind and on the side of her. She looked forward, yelled her F-word road rage and looked back again.
Were I not looking at a 3-foot-tall child, I would have bet money that it was her mother, yelling at some phantom person encroaching on her personal space.
How could I possibly tell this child’s mom that I suspected her daughter was imitating her intolerant driving? This did not seem like pleasant conversation to engage in at pick-up time.
Fortunately, I did not have to tell mom because dad handled pick-up that day. He was, as one would suspect, very embarrassed and promised to talk to his wife. Unfortunately, his wife was not as humbled by the day’s events. In fact, I found myself the target of her rage. Only then did I realize she didn’t need a road and other drivers to express her anger at not getting her way.
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