Apologies in advance. This is likely to be a rant. I may write it in one go, not bother re-reading or editing, and I might, if I remember, just spell-check it once. Because, in case you hadn't gathered from several of my previous posts, or in case you're new, kids, in my view, take priority. They need looking after. They need to be cared for. They need attention.
They need to be kept safe.
"How dare you move my children?" She screams like a madwoman. She's running round in the middle of the road, tearing at the bandage that we've placed on what's left of her ear and throwing it to the floor in fury. Immobilising her is out of the question.
"My children are my life. I wouldn't do anything to hurt them!" She's restrained by police while we have the unenviable task of cutting her children out the car and immobilising them on spinal boards.
"Don't you dare touch them! I've done nothing wrong! I'm a good mother! A safe driver! You're hurting them. You're gonna take them away!" Damned right. They're going to the hospital so they can put them back together.
It takes all my self-restraint not to answer her back. This is all her fault in the first place. These children, who she so vehemently claims she would never hurt, are now being scared to death by the fire-brigade who have to cut them out of the ruins of the car. It's her fault. She's the cause. This is the effect.
Another maniacal scream follows.
"YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT MY CHILDREN! YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL THEM!" And I can hardly take it any more. In the recesses of my mind, my self-restraint gives way to my red-headed temper and I tell her what I think.
If only you hadn't have loaded your car with a 2 metre long heavy box that was placed between your children.
If only you hadn't have had that can of beer sitting next to you.
If only you weren't concentrating on eating the hot chips that were in your lap while you were driving.
And if only you'd have actually placed your kids on proper seats and strapped them in.
Then maybe I'd struggle a little less with your claim that they are your primary concern. Maybe I'd stop thinking that actually, the person who was really trying to kill them, was you. Their mother. I don't mean to, but I can't help thinking it. She's no mother.
She had her ear practically torn off by the box as it flew through the windscreen. It could have been one of her kids.
She's lost control of the car, either through drinking or eating whilst at the wheel.
She's lost the right to tell me what's best for her kids.
She's lost the right to tell me my job. I need to do my job. I feel like I need to do her job too.
She's almost, very nearly lost a hell of a lot more.
She almost lost her kids.