I have a theory on Fridays…I typically don’t like them because Friday is 3 short days away from Monday, which are historically crazy/bad days. Therefore, I like Wednesday as it is 3 short days from my weekend. Think about it.

That being said…

It’s Friday and, I promise you, it’s not a day too soon.

This morning I got to experience a few of my favorite things.

1. Delightful kisses from my delightful daughter. “Good morning, mommy,” she told me with a big smile and crusty eyelids as I moved in for the wake up call. That was the end of the pleasantries from her. It was an uphill battle all the way out the door. Don’t tell anyone the t-shirt she wore to school is the same one she slept in last night. That battle wasn’t worth fighting. She’s double jointed, strong and stubborn as granddaddy’s prize mule. I ended up leaving her in a crying heap in the bathroom because I put the watermelon flavored toothpaste on the YELLOW Snoopy toothbrush, not the PINK one. Needing to leave the house soon, I conceded and got the pink one out of my bathroom and put on said toothpaste. Not good enough…”I can do it all by myself.” Toothbrush rinsed off and toothpaste reapplied by her. It wasn’t enough toothpaste – yes it is (insert speech on the perils of too much toothpaste) Toothpaste wasn’t cold – room temp is the best for toothpaste. If you don’t believe me, brush your teeth and we’ll call daddy and ask him. The toothbrush was wet. I have never uttered the word “duh” with my child. Ever. That is until this morning. Seriously? She’s the one who won’t let you put paste on it unless you douse it with water first not to mention she made me wash the other toothpaste off. I’ll skip shoes, vitamins and breakfast menu, but I think you can guess the paths those took.

2. About 11 minutes into my commute, I move over into the far right lane because I have to turn right off one highway onto another and every.single.time I try to drive in the center or left lanes, I have a terrible time moving over. Sooo, I stay put and have found it really takes no more time to get to my turn, only a smattering of patience. Enter the not-so-patient uber tailgater. This is the person that doesn’t understand you can only go as fast as the person in front of you. Dude moved up so close to me, I not only lost sight of his headlights, but half of his hood, too. Doesn’t he understand that he becomes my new trailer hitch if I had to even think about my brakes? How ’bout you move over into one of the other TWO lanes and pass me, mmmk? Oh, wait. That’s not an option because you like knowing the fact I have my 3 yr. old in the car is the only thing keeping me from letting you eat the azz end of my car. He FINALLY moves over and guess who I meet at the next stop light. Yup. Two more lights. Yup. Guess who has to make the same right hand turn I do, but had a hard time getting over. Yup. Guess who ends up back on my bumper for the next 16 miles of our journey. Yup. Guess who maintained a 56 m.p.h. speed? Yup. Hey, they’re doing construction. I can’t afford the fine or the license points.

3. In the zone, we are all cruising at our safe speed until one car sees a cop with an unlucky soul pulled over on the other side of the highway. What does he do? Slams on breaks causing 2 tractor trailers to squeal, swerve and smoke up the highway. I’m a nerd; I typically practice safe driving distances…I had plenty of room to slow it down. Uber tailgater? Swerve right taking up some grass on the shoulder of the road because he isn’t a nerd and doesn’t practice safe driving distances. We don’t just slow down a few m.p.h. We crawl at 30 m.p.h. never making it back up past 45 for fears of being the next unlucky soul. (I promise you this was not a situation, where slowing down to provide a safety cushion for cop or driver was an issue. They were well off the road – on the other side of the highway – and the traffic approaching them had no highway space issues to contend with)

4. The last 19 miles of my trip is a two lane highway with now and again passing zones. I’m behind the one driver I loathe to get behind. The exhaust on his truck is terrible and he leaves a Pig-Pen type cloud behind him. He goes 40 in a 55 m.p.h. no-passing zone. He goes 65 in a passing zone. Back to 40. Up to 65. If I try to pass him, I have to go ridiculously fast because he speeds up. I’m not okay with that. Mainly because of the schedules of the law enforcement folks who travel the same roadways and I can’t afford that ticket or points, either.

Olivia made it to school unscathed. I made it to work with sanity mostly intact.

Good morning, internets! Did I mention I’m glad it’s Friday?