She ripped and tore through the streets of International Falls Minnesota in my dad's white-with-red-racing-stripe-1960s-Rambler with me in the passenger seat, prepping me for the drop-off.
"I AM NOT STOPPING, YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO JUMP OUT, SO GET READY!"
I got ready. I had my backpack in hand, I got my seatbelt off... (Just kidding. It was 1987, and this was a 1960's Rambler. There were no seat belts.) Anyway, I crouched while she slowed to a roll in front of my school and I jumped!
When she tells the story she describes peeling away from my school and glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure I got up off of the road. Instead what she saw was me in the rear view mirror, arms flailing, running after her car screaming for her to "STOP!"
She got SO MAD. She slammed on the breaks. She screamed, "WHAT?!?" at her tiny little crying ten-year-old baby sister who had shut her backpack in the car door.