While watching patiently to catch a glimpse of an elusive baby rabbit in our neighbor’s yard last month, another strange creature popped out of the bushes instead. It was similar to a guinea pig, with long dark gray fur.
Puzzled, I snapped a dozen photos, gave them to our neighbor to investigate, and forgot about it. Until my almost 17-year -old daughter accused me scathingly of being a shrew. Concurrently, the neighbor announced the animal mystery solved: It’s a shrew.
I had no idea Federal Way harbored shrews and that apparently, I was one of them.
My curious nature pushed me to examine exactly what a shrew is, and how my daughter clearly intended the slur to insult me. Interestingly, the shrew is a small insectivore mammal with a cartilaginous snout. Active mainly at night, not social or gregarious, it prefers a solitary existence and will aggressively protect its territory.
OK, the cartilaginous snout could be used to describe my nose. But that’s where the similarities end — I won’t eat ants even dipped in chocolate, and I have more brown in my hair than gray. However, I am occasionally introverted, and tend to have aggressive interactions when my territory is cluttered.
Reading further, the Middle English noun “shrewe” could be a scolding, evil-tempered woman. Nodding my head, I accept that maybe I act shrewish when pushed. But I will maintain that all mothers have it in them somewhere.
I tried to recall the conversation when the slander occurred. The discussion was about driving — specifically, teenage drivers. We could be outnumbered because Federal Way is saturated with them. The area high schools are located in short vicinity from each other: Thomas Jefferson, Federal Way, Decatur, Truman and Todd Beamer.
This means that on any given day, we are probably near a new driver. The driving permit allows the new driver to be out there on the road or, rather, trying to stay on the road. When my daughter is laughing and chatting about her day at school while driving, I am left anxiously studying the traffic and offering helpful suggestions. This could be misconstrued as shrew-like behavior. But I feel it is completely justified. Driving instructors often carry a big traveling coffee mug. That is shrewd because no one would suspect what’s really in it. If that were my job, I know what I’d be drinking.
I have thought about our society as a whole, and driving seems to bring out the worst in people. I believe it is because we are somewhat anonymous in our cars. We are all technically strangers out there.
I will offer a small piece of unsolicited advice: Be kind to drivers who act confused, are driving slow and might be weaving. It doesn’t mean they are old drunkards heading back to the tavern. They are probably terrified teenagers trying really hard to not make a mistake. Honking does not help. Neither does passing or giving dirty looks, among other things.
Remember, we all started out driving the same: SCARED.
Leave the shrew-like behavior where it belongs — with the mother. After all, we’re the ones in the car with them.
I will happily tip my coffee mug at you and even smile when you allow my daughter the right of way. See you on the road!
Federal Way resident Jan Hallahan is a writer and mom: Jan12160@yahoo.com.
