I was driving home from work on Tuesday. One of my last turns is a left onto my cross street. There were a line of cars coming towards me, and one car in front, so I sat in my lane with my blinker on politely waiting.
Then I saw him. The really-little-old-man coming up behind me.

The closer he came, the more I decided he was going too fast ... and then, from my rear-view mirror vantage point, I saw the moment of recognition in his eyes; the moment he realized that he needed to stop.

He threw his whole body against the steering wheel in an effort to stop his little (in comparison to mine) red car from smashing into my bumper. And almost succeeded.

He was probably only going 3 miles an hour when he smooshed into my bumper .... but it was enough. I made my left hand turn and pulled over, getting out of the car. I could see his really-little-old-wife going frantically through their glove box, presumably looking for their insurance card. She had her old-lady hair net on, and was wearing her house coat and slippers.

I came up to his window and asked if he was ok. He told me he was fine. So I told him I was fine too .... and to have a nice day.

The really-little-old-wife stopped going through their glove box, looked at him, looked at me, looked at him again.

Then I walked away, got back into my car, and went home.

And I forgot to check my mail.