J. and I were driving behind a car with a “Baby on board” decal yesterday. Please trust I mean no offence, but I laugh whenever I see these decals. I’m glad you have a baby, a bit jealous to be honest, but do you think that declaration is really going to change how I drive near your car? Baby or not, I will not speed, I’ll merge properly, check my blind spot regularly, and stay home when I’m too fatigued to be behind the wheel.
I will avoid hitting you whether or not you have your baby on board because: a) my insurance rates are sky high since my trio of accidents a few years ago; b) I wouldn’t want to hurt you, whatever your age (hopefully you, dear driver, are old enough to have a license yourself); and c) I wouldn’t particularly want to get hurt myself.
Remember, I’m the self-righteous one who scorns people for applying make up/texting/eating breakfast cereal while they drive. And don’t even think about getting behind your wheel if you’ve had too much to drink. I trust you’d never do any of those things while your babies are on board. If you drive distracted or impaired, I may want to slug you but I still wouldn’t want my car to hit yours.
Upon seeing this decal, affixed uncharacteristically to a sporty BMW rather than a family van, J. and I discussed what kind of decal I might put on my car to ensure no one bashes into me. After that near miss with the funnel cloud last week, a harsh reminder that anything could kill me at any time, I’m not eager to die in a car accident.
Creative thinkers that we are, J. and I came up with a list of reasons why you shouldn’t hit me if I’m driving. I have a newer, unsullied car, for one, and I’m trying to keep it that way. Also, my insurance company will accuse me of lying if I claim the accident was not my fault, even if that’s true, so spare me the unnecessary humiliation. And then there’s Jelly, who is often on board but whose short stature renders her invisible to other drivers. “Basset on board” does have a nice ring to it, though, don’t you think?
How about this? Do you think a “Cancer on board” decal would work? Don’t hit me out of sympathy; I’ve suffered enough. Or don’t hit me because my platelets are so low I’m more likely to die from internal bleeding than you are. In other words, “Thrombocytopenia on board”. (I don’t make up the words; I just try to use them appropriately in a sentence.) There’s also my ginormous spleen, which could shatter if those airbags were to deploy. Can you envision a decal with “Gross splenomegaly on board”? Bet that gem would have drivers thinking twice about tailgating me.
Of course, this vocabulary might stymie you so much that you’d be compelled to search the definitions. Even if you own one of those newfangled cars with wifi–whose dumb idea was that?–please pull over before you Google them. Thanks.