Stop, look and listen before you cross the street.

Use your eyes, use your ears and THEN you use your feet.

I learned that little jingle when I was a toddler. And I adhered to it. Unfortunately, tween punks in One Direction t-shirts haven’t got enough sense to do this.

Every afternoon at 3:00-the exact time that I’m arriving back home after picking up my children at the elementary school- the bus drops the middle and high school kids off at the front of our neighborhood, and the children have to walk the rest of the way to their homes. I live at the back of the neighborhood, so I have the pleasure of driving past all of the kids with their cell phones and chevron-patterned backpacks. Seeing tweens every day has really kept me in touch with today’s youth. I’ve learned that boys wear skinny jeans and girls wear slouchy jerseys.

Unfortunately, the majority of today’s children are complete imbeciles. They walk in the middle of the street, texting or updating their Facebook status to ,”Just got off the bus. I’m so busy looking down at my phone that I’m unaware that I’m in the middle of the road holding up traffic. I’m also unaware that there’s a blonde lady in a black SUV cursing and blowing her horn because I’m a dumbass. #Mileyrocks.”

They seriously behave like they are at a damn street festival, casually walking down the center of the road with their fanny packs while smacking gum and looking at beaded jewelry and airbrushed t-shirts.

Moooooove, you little punks!

I’m not speeding through suburbia when I’m weaving in and out of these kid piles. I’m slowly creeping at 0.3 mph, but I’ve had several encounters with these idiot children stepping in front of my car and even completely stopped in the middle of the road like a stubborn cow.

Last week, two tween girls were nearly bruised when they walked in front of me. Sure, I was going 32 miles below the speed limit, but it could’ve been a dangerous situation.

When I rolled down my window to ask these children if they had enough sense to look before they crossed the road, one of the little delinquents began spouting off obscenities at me. Me! I’m old enough to be her SISTER.

Then she flipped me the bird.

Can you imagine? No respect, Rodney Dangerfield. No respect.

My blood pressure rose. If my children hadn’t been in the car, I would be on the news right now for child abuse.

“Suburban mom beats the hell out of neighbor’s child with an Ozarka water bottle.”

But, I drove on home and vented on Facebook to anyone that would listen.

The next day, the tween girls were standing on the curb. When they saw me coming, they purposely stepped right in front of my car.

I didn’t beat them with a water bottle, but I slammed the horn and told them I knew what game they were playing and they could keep it up. I may be 32, but I can channel my mean inner 13-year-old with no problem.

Yesterday, my 3-year-old son and I were walking back home from a neighbor’s house. He was riding his bicycle, and I was jogging along beside him. We were on our side of the road, minding our business, when I saw two young boys riding their bikes towards us.

They were deep in conversation- staring at each other instead of the path before them. Before I could scream, one of the boys had veered straight towards us and slammed right into my son. My little boy tumbled from his bicycle and hit the hard pavement. The big boy’s bike ran over my baby’s foot.

Considering my issues with the bus kids every afternoon, I came unglued at this situation. I’m not comfortable in scolding other people’s children, but when my child has been injured due to another child’s negligence, well I have no qualms about letting my feelings be known.

When my emotional rant was through, the kid said, “Sorry,” in a very casual way and sped on down the street. I was left to carry my screaming boy and his bulky bicycle back to the house. With every step, his training wheels hit me in the leg, and I invented a new curse word.

My husband was home when we arrived. I was so upset that I was shaking, and as I told him what had happened, we saw the boys riding in front of our house. Husband marched down the driveway, in his khaki pants and pressed Ralph Lauren shirt, and he had a “talk” with the kid that ran over our boy.

I didn’t seem to intimidate the little punk very much earlier, but when my husband was done speaking with him, he was shaking and nearly left a puddle in the street. He apologized numerous times and then raced home. I’m pretty sure he was terrified, which is good. Terror helps valuable lessons stick.

Here is my point-

Parents! Please teach your children about road safety! We aren’t supposed to text and drive, but is texting while cycling any better? Is walking in the middle of the road a sensible thing to do? We assume that 13-year-old kids have enough sense to stop, look and listen before they cross the street, but the majority of kids in my neighborhood don’t.

These activities can be hazardous to their health!

And if one more punk flips me the bird, the blonde lady in the black SUV will be hazardous to their health, too.

See you tomorrow.

Bicycle Safety Car Safety NaBloPoMo Punks Street Tweens