Dear [insert expletive of choice] driving the new BMW up Rt 9 in Westchester today,

I’m not sure what fly-by-night DMV officer you paid to give you your license without having demonstrated that you know the first thing about driving, but when approaching a hill in a near-blinding blizzard, the best response is not in fact to panic and slow down on your approach. Slowing down will cause you to be unable to make it up the hill, and subsequently, all of the cars behind you will find themselves in the same situation.

[repeat expletive of choice].

Happy holidays,
Mom-101

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Dear [insert expletive here] who runs the shitty little motel on Rt 9,

If a woman knocks on your door in tears asking if please, please can she leave her car here in the parking lot until the blizzard dies down because she’s been driving for 4.5 hours to get 50 miles and she can’t get up the hill to make it to her parents’ house to see her kids, and so her parents are going to come pick her up here instead–perhaps you were not aware of the proper response.

The proper response is why YES ma’am, YES of course. We’re so very sorry. Feel free to leave the car here overnight. Can we help you push it out of that snowdrift? And by the way, can we offer you some tea?

The proper response is not to be completely annoyed.

Especially when your entire parking lot is empty. With the exception of the car with the crying woman in it.

[repeat expletive of choice]

Happy holidays,
Mom-101

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Dear whoever is in charge of such things,

Thanks for getting me here safely tonight. Despite all the [insert expletive of choice]s on the road today.

Seriously. Thanks. It was worth it just to see Sage playing in the snow for the very first time.

Happy holidays,
Mom-101

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Update: This morning my 66 year-old mother and I spent a good 45 minutes digging out of the [insert expletive of choice] motel’s parking lot and pushing the car out of the snowbank while the [insert expletive of choice] proprietor watched on smiling.

Chivalry! Not alive on Rt 9!