Road Rage - Learned or Genetically Inclined?

Ok, so there is one thing about me that needs to be aired out on the internet. I have a small case of road rage. Now I don't mean that I drive around shooting people the finger and pulling up beside people who have cut me off and cuss them out. I am more of a to-myself kind of road rage guy. Really it may not even be considered road rage by definition. Here's the bottom line, I believe that the world would not have problems on the streets if everyone just drove like me. My mom would never agree with this. I think she believes I am the worst driver ever. When she rides with me in Dallas/Fort Worth traffic she is the biggest passenger driver there is. People are breaking 100 yards in front of me and she is making sure I know that.

Anyway, I just don't have patience with dumb drivers. The most irritating is when I am on the Interstate in the passing lane and can't pass because there is a car in the slow lane and one in the fast lane (passing lane) going the same speed. Get out of my way! (The sad thing is that I am almost for certain that I have been that slow car in the passing lane.) I just hate it when I am the one that is stuck behind the slow car. So lack of patience is my biggest deal.

So the other day I am taking Brock to the sitters and we are taking our normal route, checking out the cows in the one pasture we pass every morning, driving by Fossil Ridge's football field where Brock every morning says "Booot Ball" (football) and points to the players.

We pulled up to the light by the high school and were waiting behind a lady for the light to turn green. When the light turned green she just sat there, and me being the nice guy, by not honking my horn, sits there for a second, get frustrated and then yell out loud, "Go, Go, Go!" Then I honk!

It wasn't 2 seconds after I yelled this that I hear from the back seat a little voice yell out the words, "Go Go, Go", as clear as could be. I turn and look at these two precious little eyes looking back and me and then a huge grin fills his face. My son followed in my foot steps of road rage - that is not good. Really, I figured that he would not even remember! That is until the next day when we started heading the to sitters again, and while we were sitting still waiting for our turn to go through the four-way stop sign, I heard a little voice from the backseat yell, "Go, Go Go!" and he looked up at me and smiled as if to say, "aren't you proud of me, I am just like you"! Yikes!