BACKSTORY: On Monday mornings, there is nowhere to park within a mile radius of Skye’s daycare because of street cleaning, parking regulations, blah, blah, blah. AS IF MONDAY MORNINGS AREN’T BAD ENOUGH. So, being the good citizen that I am, I usually park illegally in the driveway entrance while I quickly drop her off. As I did this past Monday.
DAYCARE ADMINISTRATOR: Um, I think you’re getting a parking ticket.
I look over at the table of impressionable one-year-olds.
ME: You didn’t hear that.
Then I run like hell towards my car, where Parking Enforcement — also known as “The Most Thankless Job in the World” — was indeed making a big deal of punching my license plate number on his hand-held parking ticket printer.
ME: Stop! Please! I was just dropping off my baby.
EVIL PARKING ENFORCEMENT: Your baby, huh?
I tenderly hug Skye’s sippy cup to my chest.
ME: Yes, my baby goes to daycare here. And there’s nowhere else to park.
EVIL PARKING ENFORCEMENT: You’re lucky I haven’t started the ticket yet.
ME: I am. I really am. MY BABY and I appreciate your understanding.
EVIL PARKING ENFORCEMENT: But you shouldn’t park here, you know. People with strollers or wheelchairs would have to walk around your car, onto the street —
ME: As the mother of A BABY, I completely understand what you mean. Never again.
EVIL PARKING ENFORCEMENT: Have a good day, ma’am.
ME: Sa-weet! Playing the mom card is even more effective than trying to cry my way out of a speeding ticket! (NEVER worked for me, by the way.)