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Part 3: Hot Rod Carrie

The weekend passed. The next Monday Hot Rod Carrie got ready for work and the babysitter. There was no trouble telling the boys to get their clothes on. They were ready even if Gerald had his T-shirt on backwards and his shoes on the wrong foot. In the car they yelled Hot Rod Carrie, Hot Rod Carrie! Reluctantly, I told the boys to stop yelling. They were giving me a headache.
My boys didn’t fight that morning. After I asked them to cut the noise. They sat quietly on the back seat. All was good until Dishon asked: Are we going in today, Momma? Gerald concurred, Momma go faster! I starting thinking how unappreciated I was by my husband and children. I put my foot to the petal and the petal to the medal. The boys cheers!
A cop saw me and stopped me at the traffic light. He got out of his car and leisurely walked over to my car. He asked: What’s the rush? I didn’t have an answer so I made up one. I told the cop I was rushing to my mother’s house. She was very ill. He hastily jumped into his car and said he would escort me. Give him her address. I gave him the address of my babysitter. The cop turned his lights and siren on as we rushed through traffic and cars got to the side and