I get a sick sort of pleasure watching the MP's pull people over on post. Inside I'm laughing at them. Most of the time it's single soldiers who think that they don't have to follow the speed limit through the neighborhoods. (the speed limit on my street is 15 mph.) If I could stand on the street with a sign that says "YOU'RE GOING TOO FAST. I'M WRITING DOWN YOUR LICENSE PLATE NUMBER AND I HAVE THE MP'S ON SPEED DIAL" I would totally do it. We have been walking in the cross walk and the cars behind the cars that have stopped have pulled around and almost hit our friends. They go down our road at 40 mph, and it's not going to get any better because they are building more single soldier barracks down the road from us. And while I know not all single soldiers are responsible for speeding down our street while kids are getting to and from school, I honestly feel that they are the majority of them. Most of the time, you can tell by the car. Small sports car, anything two door, more than one soldier in the car.....while I might be profiling them, I really don't care. It's not as if they can't read the signs posted every where. I give them dirty looks regularly. It doesn't do much, but I feel a little better. And when cars are speeding down the road, and we need to cross, sometimes I step out and look straight at them. You can't miss me. I'm huge. And sometimes if their window is down, I will say something. Sure, I would LOVE to drive faster than 15 mph. But I would rather not hit someone walking their dog, or a mom or dad walking their kids to school. So, every time I see an MP pull someone over, I do a little dance of joy inside. And not once do I feel sorry for them. It's about time, is what I say.
This is my blog. I write about being a military wife. Which is pretty much the same as other wives. Except when my husband leaves, it isn't for a week long business trip. Sometimes I write about regular stuff. Sometimes I don't. But hey, this is me. :)
A bad day in Paris is better than a good day anywhere else.