Memoir Monday - A Slap in Time

Short and sweet, this Memoir Monday on a Tuesday.

Trav evoked a faded memory with this week's post about being slapped. Now, you may think because I am outspoken (loud), opinionated (loud), and downright ornery (very loud) sometimes that I would have a lot of slap receiving history in my jaded past. Not true. Maybe people are scared of me (hah, if only they knew), or perhaps I am not quite as controversial as I like to think? But the only slapping history I have is this one.

Picture this, I am in my late twenties, a professional career woman, a responsible adult. I am reversing MY car out of my parents' driveway. Some moron, thinking he is invisible, comes flying round the corner and up the street, which is in the centre of town, doing about 80 clicks. Nearly wipes out rear of my car, gives me the finger. I snarl in retaliation "Fucking idiot!"

WHACK.

My very petite, refined, elegant mother, Wise Woman, belts me across the top of my left arm. And then repeats motion again. Glaring intimidatingly from the passenger seat she utters: "I do not care how old you are, you are still my daughter and I WILL NOT tolerate such language from you." 

Ouch. For someone so little she sure packed a punch. My arm is throbbing just thinking about it.

Thanks Trav. Really needed to re-live this moment, right? Right.