A few things. There’s been some back and forth book drama and headaches and not enough sleep, but I’m fine. In a crazed, still-adjusting, holy airbags, did I really just cut someone off in the B’nai Israel morning drop-off? I have been earmarked for jail. (I’m so so sorry! I didn’t realize I was in the carpool lane and not the park lane). When I tell you I spent the day (half the day) feeling sick over it, I’m not exaggerating.

Now then…

One of my neighbors came *this close* to running Lucas down with her golf cart (she was gunning it down THE SIDEWALK). She looked mid-50’s and manic. Apparently, her dog had wandered off and she was searching the neighborhood for him (she found him, called security, and then came careering down the sidewalk). I saw her. Lucas was standing outside the passenger side of my car. Abigail was climbing into her seat (which is passenger side). Lucas sprung out to come around to the driver side, where his seat is, and that’s when she slammed on the brakes and screamed, “ARE YOU FCUKING KIDDING ME?!” And I just stood there, my mouth, I’m sure, hanging. I was shaking and hugging Lucas. She said nothing else, no, is he okay, or I’m so sorry.

Stop. Think about this. Had you almost accidentally run over a four year old while driving, wouldn’t you, I dunno, stop, get out, make sure he’s okay? Say something without the word fcuk?

No. She rode off into the sunset. And I called the Home Owners Association. And by I, I mean Phil.

And that would be a no. Driving on sidewalks with golf carts is NOT permitted. In case you were siding with the runaway neighbor.