Rules of the Road

To: Enraged Motorists

From: A Bitchy Wife

Apparently, there is some concern that people who ride bikes in my small 5 mile long by 1 mile wide suburb are anarchists, at worse, and “hipsters (gasp),” at best.  Apparently, they think because we aren't “urban” we shouldn't need this mode of transportation or recreation.  Apparently, car drivers never cause any traffic delays or accidents and are saints that live to a level of expectation that the rest of the world can only hope to achieve when they reach Nirvana.

My husband is a cyclist.  He obeys traffic laws as most cyclists do (I’m imagining you only notice the ones that don’t). He has had multiple attempts by motorists to run him off the road (just for shits and giggles, not because there wasn't room to pass) and has been hit once by a truck that was making an illegal turn.  He has never caused an accident himself in the five plus years that he has been a triathlete. 

He spends his days doing:

•   lawyery things – like sometimes defending the very motorists that are a danger to him
•   dad things – like volunteer coaching and fixing broken toys and teaching his daughters to ride their bikes.
•   husband things – like killing spiders and mowing the lawn and putting air in my car tires.
•   wife things – like grocery shopping and cooking (because I suck)
•   restoration things – like stripping old furniture and managing our vintage store
•   training things – like swimming, biking and running so he can finish his second iron man this year.

In other words, he does more things in a single day than a lot of people do in an entire week.

I’m not saying that he’s better than anyone else. I’m just saying that this is the person you are so angry at when you have to slam on your brakes (Because I forgot to say that he often just pops out of worm holes right in front of your cars.  I’m sure it’s not because you were looking at your phone or trying to eat your Chipotle.)  This is the person you have to wait to pass because he’s only going 20 mph in a suburb that’s top speed limit is 35.  This is the person you want to ride on the uneven sidewalk where people walk their dogs and push their strollers and let their kids run next door because you would rather they stay out of the way for your Very Important Thing that you can’t possibly be another 27.3 seconds late to.

Do I ever get road rage?  Um…yes.  Pretty much every day I drive down town.  I’m impatient and yet I will look at my phone and miss that a red light turned green while I checked facebook.  I yell at the car in front of me for not warning me about the pot-hole crater that just took off my muffler.  But I always thought those were my faults.

So, I guess what I’m saying – too make a long story short – kindly shut the hell up.

To: Enraged Motorists

From: Morgan (age 8) and Zoe (age 5)

Please don’t get my dad killed because you are egotistical ass hats!

Thanks.

P.S.  We love unicorns.