Dear Buttmunch:

Our eyes met briefly on the road today.  Me, in the passenger seat teaching my son to drive — you, in the drivers seat as you flew around us.   Now.  Let me just say, I am teaching a teenage boy to drive.  This kid will learn the laws and pass his test and hopefully not turn into you, Mr. Impatient.   I hope you are aware that my son, along with all the rest of the traffic in front, and in back of us, was going the speed limit.  There are actually signs every hundred feet or so that indicate what the speed limit is on each particular road, Buttmunch.

I know you were having a cardiac problem by the way you were creeping up his ass.  I was having one too, as instead of keeping his eyes fixed on the road, he was more worried about trying to please your sorry ass.  Actually, maybe instead of the dirty look, you should have given a “thank you nod”, as chances are he probably saved your sorry butt from mowing down some innocent person up the road because you were going too fast and were too impatient… I believe in that stuff you know.

And with that I close this letter and wish you a better day.  Next time, leave a little earlier.  Better yet, think of your own child driving one day, and imagine how you would like him or her to be treated.   Loosen up, the place you are trying to get too is not worth dying over.

Good day Sir.
Signed,

The Mom you caused to have heart palpitations.

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