You know, I don’t do a lot of ranting around here. Well maybe once or twice.

For the most part, when I blog, I try to keep things light and entertaining.

In addition, far be it from me to judge another person’s parenting. Ahem, what’s that they say about people living in glass houses?

But forgive me; I can no longer hold my tongue (or typing fingers). It has come to my attention that some of the parents in my child’s preschool carpool drop off line are assholes.

And not just because of the gigantic hair bows they put on their daughter’s heads. Jeeeeezus.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present exhibit A:

Excuse me, this is not a parade. Sit the fuck down and get buckled, Junior!

This was not just a quick “pop-up and test the wind direction” either. This kid remained in parade-mode for the entire quarter mile length of the carpool line:

"{ack ack ack} The fumes...can't breathe...must...get...air."

If this was an isolated incident, I could probably ignore it and perhaps just say a little prayer for that poor boy and his devil-may-care parents. But alas, I see this crap every single day. And that means every single day I get to tell my sweet little Bucket Head “No, you can’t do it too. Mommy loves you too much to put you in danger like that.”

Mark my words, it’s only a matter of time before he tells some kid on the playground “My Mommy loves me more than your Mommy loves your hillbilly ass.”

"Hang on, Sugar Britches, Daddy's about to make a turn."

Hey you! Ever hear of something called a car seat law? Or are you claiming sanctuary just because you’re in a church parking lot?

"Who me?"

Yes you, Sweet Cheeks. Sit your {ahem} hillbilly ass down before a bird builds a nest in that pie hole.

This next poor kid must not have a sunroof. No matter! He’ll just have to make do:

"Hey Mama! I can see the hubcaps spinning!"

As you can see, these are pretty nice cars. Which just goes to show you, you can’t buy common sense.

I swear, there is some kind of gravitational forcefield that melts parents’ brains the minute they get into the carpool line at this school.

Don’t they realize that about 98% of the parents driving the other cars in this carpool line are texting (or taking photos of your kid doing something dangerous)? If one of us fails to notice you stop short while we are OMGing or LOLing or MFering, your child could have their neck snapped like a twig. Or worse yet, decapitation. Hard to learn the ABCs at preschool without a head, ya know.

Bitch, please. I know that when WE were kids we used to ride in the back of pickup trucks on highways at speeds of 70 MPH, holding a litter of kittens and daddy’s shotgun.

How do you think all these seat belts and car seats and traffic laws evolved in the first place?

And no, it doesn’t matter that the cars in this carpool line are moving at a snail’s pace. Kids can be crippled for life or killed at even 5 miles per hour.

Just ask my pediatrician. The last time I took my kids for their annual physical I asked how old my 90 pound 11 year old son needed to be before he could sit in the front seat and I was read the riot act. “What’s your hurry? I have a friend who let his tween sit in the front seat ONE TIME, just to cross the parking lot of a mall. They were only going 5 mph and got rear ended by another car and the child’s neck was broken by the impact from the airbag. She’ll be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.

{GULP.}

So that’s my Just the Tip Tuesday advice for you today, guys. Don’t be an asshole, follow the seatbelt laws. Please keep your kids buckled into their PROPERLY INSTALLED car seats until you get to your destination and it’s time for the kids to get out of the car.

‘Preciate it.

This has been a public service announcement brought to you by The Bearded Iris.

© Copyright 2011, The Bearded Iris. Don’t be an asshole: all rights reserved.