Thursday Highlights

Today was filled with lots of highlights.

Take the giant, party-sized bag of pretzel M&Ms that I found in my desk at work first thing this morning.

Totally unopened.

And left there on purpose, just for me.


(Although the subsequent sugar-high might not have been a highlight.)

And then there was the small fact that the boy had to run a timed mile in PE today, and he told me last night that he was going to set a goal for himself:  He wanted to break an eight-minute mile.

And he totally nailed it.


(And then I got to thinking… Was there ever a time in my life when I could run the mile in less than an hour?)

(The answer is:  I DON’T THINK SO.)

(It may have something to do with Highlight #1, because a party-sized bag of pretzel M&Ms that is big enough to share with the entire sorority may be the leading cause of the small fact that it takes me an entire episode of Little House on the Prairie — commercials included — to jog out a mile on the treadmill.)

But then there was the little issue of THE CONVERTIBLE this afternoon, which was a grand highlight, because listen, people!  My friend, Crystal, bought a new car, and it has one of those TOPS THAT GOES DOWN.  And she popped by the church this afternoon, while I was working as the Church Lady (“Isn’t that special?”), and she took me for a ride.

For the longest time, I kept telling her, “This is my first time in a convertible!”

(Can you say SHELTERED?)

But then, later in the day, I realized that INDEED!  I really HAD ridden in a convertible before, when I was in junior high school, and my mom’s cousin, Robin (who is only a couple years older than I am), took Sister and me for a ride in his convertible VW Slug Bug.  We took his sister, Sheila, with us, and I had the privilege of riding shotgun.

And his sister had the privilege of riding SMACK BEHIND THE DRIVER’S SEAT, so when Robin, being the VERY COOL, VERY MATURE driver that he was, made some hacking noises and then SPIT OUT THE WINDOW AND INTO THE WIND, the blob of thick slop blew backwards…

…and stuck to Sheila’s neck.

I continue to praise the heavens above that it wasn’t ME who got hit, because I would have immediately done the VERY UNDIGNIFIED thing and thrown up in the topless Slug Bug.

But today, Crystal picked me up, and she took me for a spin.

And by spin, I mean that Crystal drove really fast, and then she calmed things down immediately, because we are very old women now, and driving fast gives us the vapors.  Plus, we have finally come to a point in our lives where we understand that paying the utility bill every month is much more important than paying speeding tickets.

We like to call this realization The Onset of Maturity.

No matter.

I threw Maturity right out the window, where it flew over my shoulder and would have landed on someone riding in the backseat, if Crystal’s new speedster actually HAD a backseat, and I threw my arms up over my head, exactly like I was riding on a rollercoaster.  I was one gecko-adorned hat shy of looking like King Julian.

“It’s more fun, Maurice, when you throw your hands in the air… Like this!”

Riding like that — with my arms up high and my big sunglasses on — was so much fun, I completely FORGAVE Crystal for having played a word worth 126 points on me last week in Words With Friends.  And that is precisely when I realized that I think it’s time I suffered a mid-life crisis and bought a darling little topless car to call my own.

And that it’s time that I learned to spit properly, because Hubs assures me that I spit like a girl.

Which is to say, I usually end up with a little dribbling down my chin when said spit is concluded.

Apparently that is UNCOOL.

Oh, well.  When it takes you an hour to run a single mile while you’re watching Little House, you’re already uncool; you really can’t fall any further.

Happy Thursday night, people.

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