Please don’t run in front of my car, causing me to hit you. I don’t appreciate your booty breaking my drivers side headlight. I don’t appreciate that you made me scream and slam on the breaks. I’m also not a fan of hearing my toddler reenact the event giving play-by-play commentary about: “Woah! Careful! Car, crash, bonk.” for the last 2 minutes of my drive home. I’m also not loving the vehicular manslaughter-style guilt I’m feeling about the incident, or the 4 hours of contractions you caused. (In the future please wait till 37 weeks to jump in front of my car and then at least have the decency to actually send me into active labor. Thanks.)

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