It is Sunday. That means a 52 minute drive up, followed by a 52 minute drive back down. Approximately 10 hours will pass before the actions are repeated. It feels a lot like a “rinse and repeat.” Variations occur. Usually a child has to suddenly pee, usually when a minimum of ten miles exists between exits. Other times, someone talks me into donuts. This morning, I heard “Dunkin will make me feel better.” She was right. After all, what else makes us feel better when we have a runny nose, cough, and low grade fever?
Rinse.
On our way up, everyone was quiet. By quiet I mean one was in the back seat singing, one in the front seat was putting a car together because his medication kicked in, and the sick one was in the back seat stoned off Tylenol and natural honey cough syrup. The drive up was rather uneventful.
On the way back, it was just the stoned one and I. She was quiet. I had a chance to get lost in my many thoughts. Usually I get lost and interrupted, then feel out of sorts because I could not sort them all out.
In the middle of analyzing 100 things, I noticed an adult and overweight arm out the window of an old, faded, green minivan in front of us. It struck me as odd. Not that an arm was out the window, wind surfing, but rather it was strange as that it was clearly an adult male. My kids do it all the time, because they love fighting against the rushing wind. They love feeling the pressure against their hand and arm movements. I must admit, it is a cool feeling.
I started wondering if this grown man was high or had already been drinking. I mean, what causes an adult male to act like a kid with his hand flying and fighting through 70 plus mph winds? Not too mention, it was hot out and they were letting out the air conditioning. I did not find this to be an adult action.
But it was a cool feeling. It was nice to feel that freedom and force against your hand and arm. It was even cooler to feel like that part of you is flying through the air, away from the world, while the other parts are safe and secure in the car.
Seeing this man hang his arm out the window and soar his hand through the rough cuts and bursts of highway driving force winds made me crave the same feeling. I reached up to lower my window, then I remembered I did not have a hair tie. Once again, childlike behaviors killed by my low desire to have my face whipped by my thin, stringy hair.
Therefore, on the next part of this journey, I will remember a hair tie and set an example for some other adult, in their thoughts, and allow my hand to wind surf during our 52 minute drive up, then back.
Repeat.
Sandy Feet Life 