I Wanna Break The Law



It’s 6:30 am Sunday morning.

I am on the road.  The light is red. I look left. I look right. There is not another mobile car in sight.

I can’t be the only parent who has been awakened by rambunctious children.

And where are the fishermen? Or Dunkin Donut makers?

Nope, the road is empty.

Next. I’m on a highway. It is three lanes, it is smooth, and it is flat. And empty. I know the speed limit. I’ve traveled the road many times before. 50 miles per hour.

But I want more

Go Speed Racer. Go Speed Racer Go Speed Racer, Go!

Why should I be constricted?

I ache to smash through the speed limit.

I want to break the law.

Be a rebel.

I wanna be anarchy.

While the lyric is from the Sex Pistols, the feeling is all mine.

Confines and limitations. Restrictions and restraints.

QUESTION: Would it be so terrible if I ignored traffic lights, stop signs, and speed limits on an early morning empty road? Really, what would be so terrible about that?

This qualifies as derring-do in a life of sedation. The life of a parent. The life of a government employee.

So, what do you say?

Don’t tell me that you other responsible parents haven’t felt this before.  You want to do what you want to do.

You have your roles at home and at work. You fill them dutifully and gracefully.  Yet sometimes, there’s that voice inside of you. Maybe it whispers or shouts.

But it speaks, and you hear it.

Would it be so bad to listen?  Go ahead: Break the speed limit, buy the fanciful useless clothing, or eat the whole cake.

The next day will still come.

You’ll pick up the dry cleaning, help the kids with their homework, balance your checkbook. You will play the role of responsible adult.

But now for a moment. At least.

I want to break the law.

Image Courtesy of: Google Images: Stop Sign