Peace out, yo

Frequently when the Hartsock family drives around, the shortest two members like to play games.

Most often, they play the “Peace Game,” during which they flash peace signs to drivers, passengers, pedestrians, bikers, motorcyclists … basically, anyone out and about.

Then they tally points if the flashee flashes a peace sign back: 1 point for each person in a car, two points for a biker or cyclist, five points for a jogger, a gazillion for a unicyclist, etc.

One day, after a particularly grumpy driver in the car next to ours scowled first at my kids (ages 9 and 12) and then at me, as if the former should be ashamed and the latter embarrassed, I turned to my little darlings and told them, “Kids, no matter what, DO NOT grow up to be the mean grownup who is either too busy or too self-important or even just too inattentive that you take offense at a couple of kids goofin’ in the car.”

Of course, what they heard was, “Kids, no matter what, DO NOT blahblahblahblah bl a h b l a h … ”

Then one slugged the other, she whined, he smirked, she slugged back, he tattled, and they went back to their game.

Funny thing is, I seem to recall playing the same game when I was a kid, until I learned a much more interesting hand signal. Let’s call it half a peace sign, and before I knew what it meant — I knew it was good, but I didn’t know it was BAD — I’d flash, in no particular order, a half dozen peace sign for every one, uh, not-so-peace signs.

To this day, I’m not sure my parents know why our pastoral, nuclear-family jaunts were accompanied by so many smiling faces, waves, peace signs … and occasional shaken fists, honks and, of course, returned birds.

I’ve thought about conducting an experiment by resurrecting the Peace Game on two wheels, flashing the signal as I pedal about town.

As it is, I’ve been known to give the peace sign when I’m cut off or nearly hit. Kill ’em with kindness, I figure.

But I’m not sure the world is ready for indiscriminate peace signs on two wheels.

After all, if some folks get so incensed at my kids’ innocent game, I’m afraid how they’d react to a middle-aged doofus on a bike flashing the famous two-finger salute for no good reason.

Peace.