A mother of four was shocked when New Hampshire’s DMV told her she had to give up the vanity plates she had for 15 years.
The plates were a playful reminder to her sons to use the bathroom before getting in the car. However, the DMV didn’t see it that way and decided the plates referred to “sexual or excretory acts.”
In 2019, Wendy Auger from Rochester, New Hampshire, was told by the DMV to turn in her vanity license plate after using it for 15 years.
“It would be a real shame if I lose it,” said Wendy, who often gets compliments on her funny plates.
Referencing the state’s motto, “Live free or die,” she added, “If I have to take it off, then I won’t be able to live free.”
Her plates read “PB4WEGO,” reminding her kids to “pee before we go” before getting in the car.
“What parent hasn’t said that to their kids before leaving the house?” she asks. “I’m not one to protest, but this is just ridiculous.”
However, the DMV sent her a letter saying the plates needed to be turned in because they believe the letters refer to “sexual or excretory acts.”
“I’m not a political activist,” she tells CNN. “But this plate isn’t offensive. It’s part of our family and who I am, and there was no reason for them to take it away.”
At the time, Auger had 10 days to return her plate and was allowed to pick another custom plate for free.
After getting the letter, she posted it on Facebook with photos of her plates.
Her post quickly went viral.
One person commented on Auger’s social media page, saying, “This is so ridiculous… It’s funny and cute, and it’s a great reminder!” Another person wrote, “What’s going on?! You’ve had that plate FOREVER.”
A third person suggested, “Maybe it should say Pee or Pay…??? lol”
Responding to those who encouraged her to fight the decision, Auger joked, “Live free or die my arse,” and added, “I might get a plate that says ‘dmv sux,’ but I might get pulled over a lot!”
Her post gained a lot of attention on social media and eventually caught the eye of New Hampshire Governor Chris Sununu. He sent her a message saying: “Hey Wendy, it’s Chris Sununu. Just wanted to let you know we fixed that issue. Sorry for the mix-up and the delay, but common sense won out in the end.”
On August 28, 2019, Auger shared a new Facebook message, announcing her victory.
“This Sassy Momma Has Her Plates!!!,” writes Auger.
What is the funniest license plate you’ve seen? Please let us know what you think and then share this story so we can hear from others!
I Felt Disappointed That My Grandfather Left Me Just an Old Apiary, but My Perspective Changed When I Inspected the Beehives
My late grandfather, a master storyteller who spun tales of buried treasure, left me a rather unexpected inheritance: a dusty old apiary. It felt like a cruel joke at first. Who would leave their grandchild a shack swarming with bees? My resentment lingered until the day I finally ventured into the beehives.
One typical morning, Aunt Daphne urged me to pack my bag for school, but I was too busy texting a friend about the upcoming dance and my crush, Scott. When she mentioned my grandfather’s dreams for me, my frustration grew. I had no interest in tending to his bees; I just wanted to enjoy my teenage life.
The next day, Aunt Daphne chastised me for my neglect, threatening to ground me. She insisted that caring for the apiary was part of my responsibility. Despite my protests, I reluctantly agreed to check on the hives. Donning protective gear, I opened the first hive, my heart racing. A bee stung my glove, and for a moment, I considered quitting. But a rush of determination took over, and I pressed on, hoping to show Aunt Daphne I could handle this.
While harvesting honey, I discovered a weathered plastic bag containing a faded map. Excited, I tucked it into my pocket and raced home to grab my bike. Following the map, I pedaled into the woods, recalling my grandfather’s stories that had once enchanted me.
I found myself in a clearing resembling a scene from one of his tales—the old gamekeeper’s house stood before me, decaying but still captivating. Memories flooded back of lazy afternoons spent there, listening to his stories. Touching the gnarled tree nearby, I recalled his playful warnings about the gnomes that supposedly lurked in the woods.
Inside the forgotten cabin, I uncovered a beautifully carved metal box. Inside was a note from Grandpa: “To my dear Robyn, this box contains a treasure for you, but do not open it until your journey’s true end” Though tempted, I knew I had to honor his wishes.
After exploring further, I realized I was lost and panic set in. Remembering Grandpa’s advice to stay calm, I pressed on, searching for a familiar path. Eventually, I stumbled upon the bridge he often spoke of, but it felt further away than I had hoped. Exhausted and disoriented, I collapsed beneath a tree, longing for home.
The next morning, determined to find my way, I recalled Grandpa’s lessons as I navigated through the wilderness. I found a river but was startled when I slipped into the icy water. Fighting against the current, I finally managed to cling to a log, eventually dragging myself to shore.
Soaked and trembling, I rummaged through my backpack, only to find stale crumbs. When I remembered Grandpa’s wisdom, I used healing leaves for my cuts and continued onward, drawn by the sound of rushing water. I finally reached the river again, but the water was treacherous. Desperate, I knelt to drink, but the current swept me away, and I found myself struggling against the powerful flow.
Determined not to give up, I let go of my backpack but clung to the metal box. With sheer will, I fought my way to the bank, finally escaping the icy grasp of the river. I needed shelter, so I built a makeshift one from branches under a sturdy oak tree.
The next morning, I set out once more, the metal box feeling like my only lifeline. Memories of fishing trips with Grandpa warmed me, urging me forward. When I finally spotted the bridge, hope surged within me. But the forest began to close in around me, confusion and despair threatening to overwhelm me. Just when I thought I couldn’t go on, I found a clearing and collapsed, utterly spent.
Then, I heard voices calling my name. I awoke in a hospital bed with Aunt Daphne by my side. Overcome with regret, I apologized for everything. She comforted me, reminding me of Grandpa’s unconditional love and how he always believed in me.
As she reached into her bag, my heart raced when I recognized the familiar blue wrapping paper. It was an Xbox, a gift from Grandpa, meant to be given only when I understood the value of hard work. I realized then that I had learned that lesson, and the desire for the gift faded.
In the following years, I grew into my responsibilities, embracing the lessons my grandfather imparted. Now, as a mother myself, I reflect on those moments with gratitude. The sweet honey from my bees serves as a cherished reminder of the bond I shared with Grandpa, a bond that continues to guide me.
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