So I've gotten quite used to always having someone there to chat with. The problem is that I'm sooo used to it, that I have problems going out by myself. Really I do.
This was brought home to me last week. I had a dentist appointment, and now that K-boy is old enough to babysit during the day, I didn't bring the kids with me.
I did just fine at the dentist office. Instead of entertaining bored children, I was actually able to read the ancient magazines in the waiting room. Having majored in history in college made me really appreciate their antiquity. Seriously.
I was the model patient once in the chair. I shone at making awkward small talk with the hygienist and dentist while my mouth was full of fingers and gadgets. When I was done I got to make my way to the receptionist without a five minute deliberation at the treasure chest about which penny toy to select.
It wasn't until I got back to my car that the problems began. I started the engine and the empty light came on for the gas gage. My hubby will drive for twenty miles with it on empty before he'll stop for gas. Personally I think it's just his attempt at being a suburban adventurer. With me the warning light serves as an urgent summons to fill up. I find my way immediately to the nearest gas station, sweating bullets the whole time for fear that the car will just die before I get there.
Fortunately the nearest gas station was just down the road from the dentist office, no more than a mile. Unfortunately a great song came on the radio during that short drive, and I just had to sing along. I love singing in the car, at the top of my lungs. My kids love for me to do it too. Well, my youngest still loves to hear me sing. The other two kind of....beg me to stop.
But on this day I was alone, so I was singing.
The real problem was that when I pulled into the gas station, the very crowded gas station, I was still singing. Loudly. And when I turned off the engine, and got out of the car to pump my gas, I was still singing the final few words of Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline". When I finally noticed people staring, I stopped, mortified.
My kids would have stopped me. If they had been there. They
I finished pumping my gas with my face burning, and slunk home, happy to be surrounded by my family of music critics. I need them around me.
linking to: Yeah Write, Finding the Funny