When the Rubber Hits the Road

One time we were headed to the early start program at the elementary school cafeteria. The shortest route to the entrance of the café is to go around the building to the right, which is the way I always went, usually without incident. On that day, however, a woman coming out as I was going in was gesticulating angrily at me. I cringed, because technically she’s right. There’s a big “Do Not Enter” sign on that particular path.

I used to obey that sign and drive all the way around to the left, between the middle school and elementary school, past the playground, then along the track – basically 270 degrees around a circle.

But I’m all for simple when it comes to morning routines, and since I soon realized that lots of people disregard that sign, it wasn’t long before I justified ignoring it too.

Though, it did nag at my conscience a bit. It especially hit home when one of my older two pointed out, “Mommy, doesn’t that sign say ‘Do Not Enter’?”

“Why, yes it does. Good reading!”

Silence. What was he thinking? I could only imagine how his brain processed this tidbit of data.

This is the same rules-based, literal-minded son with whom I debated as we were leaving the library playground one day.

“Mommy, what does ‘No Thru Traffic’ mean?”

“Well, honey, in this case, it means you can’t cut through here from Broadmeadow to Main.”

“Well, Mah-ahm! Then why are we going this way?”

“Well, honey-ee. We’re not cutting through. We came from over there, stopped here, now we have to go to the post office. So we’re going up to Main Street. You don’t really think I should go back that way, then all the way around to Farmer’s Row, since the Broadmeadow hill is one way and then hummina-hummina-hummina” at this point was surely all he heard of my excuse.

He answered, “Yes. It says ‘No Thru Traffic’ so don’t go through.”

But I did anyway.

It was when I became a parent that things like wearing a seatbelt and crossing in the cross walk; actually sitting at the dinner table and using the manners my own parents drilled into me; and going to church on Sundays became more than just theoretical, nice, and in some cases, law-abiding, things to do.

Had I let him down? This thought haunted me until the morning not long after, we followed one of the school administrators going “the wrong way” into the cafeteria parking lot.

“Oh, look, boys, isn’t that Ms. So-and-so?”

Glancing away from his Gameboy briefly, my middle son answered “Uhm…yeah....”

“Hmmm. Well…if Ms. So-and-so can go this way, it must be okay! Right?” I rationalized.

“I guess,” he replied, without taking his eyes off Yoshi’s Island.

I have to ask myself, though, when the rubber hits the road, am I setting the right example for my kids?

On the road up the hill from the library playground or the driveway in to the school cafeteria, it’s questionable. Just because everyone else does it, does that make it right? If all my friends jumped off a bridge…

The mother of three sons, Caroline Poser lives with her family in Groton. She works full-time as a software marketing professional and moonlights as an author. For more information: www.CarolinePoser.com