The universe conspires against Mrs. Hillbilly Mom. And yet provides her closure and symmetry.
This morning on the lake road, halfway down the long twisty route to the next town, T-Hoe was nearly head-onned by a green pickup truck taking his half out of the middle. Mrs. HM is ever vigilant on her long and winding road. So she was prepared, and yanked her trusty T-Hoe to the right, without leaving the pavement, which is a good thing, as Martha Stewart might say, because there are no shoulders here. Chicago is the city of big shoulders. Hillmomba is the nation of paved pig trails. Oh, and even while saving the life of herself and her precious Pony, Mrs. HM had the wherewithal to honk at that wayward fool who was an ignorant accident waiting to happen.
As Even Steven the harsh taskmaster would have it, on the return trip after school, on an alternate route, between the roundabouts, under the highway overpass...a red van came at Mrs. Hillbilly Mom with the same insouciance as that green pickup. Not quite in the middle of the road, but heading there. Not just crowding the center line, or having two tires on it, but a good two feet across that center line, and thirsting for more. Not much yanking room there under the bridge, what with a concrete curb to hold back the slumping sidewall of dirt and rock. And once again, Mrs. Hillbilly Mom kindly honked at that non-compliant-with-traffic-laws nincompoop to point out the error of his ways.
Mrs. Hillbilly Mom. A superhero in the making.