I am the slowest driver in the world. Maybe literally. Partly because I'm pretty sure everyone in the world is out to get me or my kids, partly because it is the only time in my life I don't feel bad about taking a slow pace, but mostly because the police force of the country is out to make sure that I get a ticket every time I even think of speeding. I have never been able to cry, talk, or otherwise negotiate my way of a ticket--and I have had plenty of opportunities. Most of the time the tickets are for ridiculous things; I have even gotten a ticket for going three miles over before. No joke. Whether it is my terrible luck, or just fate making sure I never start to enjoy speeding... I cannot seem to avoid being pulled over.

On the same note, driving is always interesting right after you move because you have to search for all the speed limit signs to make sure you aren't going faster than you should, add to that the fact that all the trees here hide the signs from you, and you have a recipe for plenty of speeding tickets. I got my first one the other day. Not knowing the speed limit is not a good excuse. I know this. However, that didn't stop me from shaking a fist of fury about the unfairness of life and all that good stuff. E, being the amazing little man that he is, did his best to comfort me from the back seat telling me things like, "It's all going to be ok, mom." and chanting to Gigi, "Calm it down, calm it down." while I had a good cry and tried to move on.

I thought it was all in the past until I got behind the wheel again and heard a sweet little voice from the back asking, "Mommy? Are we speeding?" Ever since every time we start picking up speed I have to affirm to him that we are definitely following the speed limit this time. Who needs a police force when you have a three year old?