Next Stop... Dysfunction Junction

Call it a brain fart.

Things had been going so smoothly, I decided that it would be a splendid idea to spend some QT quality time with J-Fed and the kids. Little did I know that when I wasn’t looking, J-Fed had returned and it wasn’t long before he was rearing his ugly little man head.

Yes, believing that J-Fed had actually changed his evil ways was pure insanity, a major oversight on my part. How on Earth could I honestly think that the little troll would change his spots over night? Like I said, call it a brain fart.

Anyways, as we drove down the highway, I quickly remembered why it is that I don’t go anywhere with J-Fed – namely because he drives like a maniac. Honestly, what makes him think that driving 80 in a 60 and darting in and out of traffic is acceptable? It’s almost as if he believes that the road is his racetrack. I can almost see him sporting an invisible helmet and rib vest.

So of course I feel it’s my duty to suck in air and grab the dashboard in sheer terror as I watch him carelessly and recklessly negotiate the road. SO NOT COOL. Silently, I practiced biofeedback while saying a quick prayer at the same time.

And then it happened. We passed the Toys For Tots motorcycle parade traveling by on the other side of the interstate. J-Fed was absolutely mesmerized. One might think he had never seen a Harley before in his life. He gleefully started pointing the motorcade out to our 5-year-old who had her hands over her eyes in the backseat.

“Daddy, please. Eyes on the road. Eyes on the road, Daddy. Look forward Daddy,” she pleaded. Thank you Mini Me. She nervously begged him to pay attention. It just went to show the apple didn’t fall from the tree. While I appreciated her efforts, it was obvious by the smoke steaming out of J-Fed’s ears that he thought I had programmed her to say these things.