For the past fifteen years, Wendy Auger has proudly driven around New Hampshire with a personalized license plate that never fails to spark a smile or a chuckle from those who read it. Her plate, which reads “PB4WEGO,” short for “pee before we go,” is a humorous nod to the familiar phrase every parent has likely said to their child before leaving the house. For Wendy, it wasn’t just a plate—it was a playful reminder of family life and a way to bring a little laughter to the road. But recently, her plate became the center of an unexpected controversy.
The New Hampshire Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) has now ruled that Wendy’s beloved plate is “inappropriate” and has revoked her right to display it. According to the DMV, the plate contains a term considered to be “vulgar or obscene” under state guidelines for vanity plates. For Wendy, this decision came as both confusing and disappointing. She couldn’t understand how something so innocently intended could be labeled offensive after all these years.
Wendy sees her plate as a harmless, family-friendly joke—something parents say all the time and something that never seemed out of line. “It’s just good advice,” she explains. “It’s what every parent tells their kids before heading out the door.” The phrase has been part of her family routine, and the plate was her fun way of bringing that private tradition into the public space. In her eyes, the DMV’s decision was an overreach and an infringement on her right to express herself freely.
What makes the situation even more frustrating for Wendy is the backstory of how she got the plate in the first place. Years ago, when New Hampshire increased the character limit on vanity plates from six to seven letters, Wendy immediately saw her chance. She had been waiting for that exact moment to request “PB4WEGO,” and when it was approved, she felt a small but meaningful sense of victory. That plate, to her, symbolized a fun piece of parenting and personal expression that had been officially recognized.
Now, that victory feels like it’s being taken away without fair cause. The DMV insists that their ruling is based on long-standing regulations tied to a previous court decision, which gives the state authority to deny plates that contain language deemed derogatory or inappropriate. Still, Wendy questions whether her plate truly fits that description. After all, no one had complained about it in the 15 years she had been driving with it. There had been no backlash, no controversy, and certainly no indication that the public found it offensive—until the DMV’s sudden reevaluation.
Wendy argues that her plate was never meant to insult or offend. In fact, it often made people laugh or struck up conversations at red lights and gas stations. It served as a lighthearted way to connect with others, especially fellow parents who could instantly relate to the phrase. She’s now questioning why something so benign is being treated with such severity, especially when there are other plates with far more questionable language that have reportedly slipped through the system.
To Wendy, this isn’t just about a piece of metal on her car—it’s about principle. It’s about the freedom to share a simple, good-natured message and the right to self-expression. She believes the DMV’s decision is unfair and unnecessarily restrictive, and she’s not giving up without a fight. Wendy hopes to appeal the ruling or convince state officials to reevaluate the context of her plate. She’s also received a wave of support from people who agree that the message is more funny than foul.
As her story spreads, it’s sparking a wider conversation about how we define appropriateness and who gets to decide what counts as offensive. Should one agency have the final say over personal expression, especially when that expression is neither hateful nor vulgar in the eyes of the general public? Or should there be room for common sense and context when it comes to regulations?
For now, Wendy remains hopeful that the state will reconsider its stance. “PB4WEGO” might just look like a silly phrase to some, but for her, it represents years of memories, laughter, and a little slice of life shared from the driver’s seat. Whether or not the DMV changes its mind, one thing is clear—Wendy’s plate has already left a lasting impression, and her fight is about more than just letters. It’s about standing up for the value of humor, humanity, and personal expression on the road.
