I like to speed and the kids egg me on. This weekend, the kiddos and I piled into the car and headed to Westchester county New York for lunch at my grandma’s. When we reached the highway my girl squealed, “You’re going fast mommy.” And she and my son proceeded to cheer for every car that I passed, which was most- stay right except to pass is for wimps. How about stay out of the left lane unless you’re doing 90.
Needless to say we made it to grandma’s in record time. I had been on the fence for days about whether to go to this family gathering. My man opted out because of the long drive and he has a terrific excuse. I finally decided to go- a road trip is travel. We headed out in the last hours of ‘Hurricane’ Earl with me on the verge of tears-in the dark morning it seemed like a bad idea. But as we drove towards the sunshine my mood improved. And I am glad that we went: lunch at grandma’s is a tradition, and the only time that we see my grandmother and aunt/uncle and cousins. As we sat down for lunch, 4 generations at one table- 17 of us, I believe 19 is the record-and my grandma made an emotional toast to our family-I was right there with her. My heart is on my sleeve these days.
But I don’t think most people can see that. Unless you happen to catch me with my tears in my eyes- or read this blog. I probably seem like myself. I was a bit subdued and I missed my man- one of the perks of being in a relationship is having someone at family gatherings-but otherwise I think I was me. When people ask me these days how I am doing I want to say, “I think I am OK, how do I seem to you.” As a character in one of my new favorite series put it-”we are all starring in our own movie.”
On the drive home the kiddos and I stopped at a highway rest stop for ice cream. There was only one boy behind the counter and it was a long slow line. My kiddos chose ice cream sandwiches out of the freezer. So when the woman ahead of me ordered a smoothie and a sundae I politely asked if I could quickly pay. The boy behind the counter explained that he had to take customers in order. So I asked the woman if she minded. ”You heard him,” she said gruffly avoiding eye contact. “Yes, but you have the power to tell him it’s OK,” I said dumbfounded. “I’m not his boss,” she rebuffed and turned her back to me. I stood impatiently behind her sending her all the negative energy I could muster and when I finally paid for my half melted ice cream sandwiches (an act that took approximately 30 seconds,) I thanked the boy and (I’m not proud,) turned to the woman and announced ” and you’ll get yours,” as I walked away. I believe in Karma.
Obviously this woman and I are starring in two different movies. In mine, it was a reasonable request in hers it wasn’t. In mine, I am a nice woman and she is a total bitch and in hers the opposite is probably true, (but clearly she’s wrong.)
When I gave my grandma a hug goodbye she looked me in the eye and said, “I hope your man is going to be all right.” Me too grandma. No matter how I seem to myself or others we all can agree on this.