Have you ever been driving down the road and noticed a shoe? There it is, all by itself in the HOV lane of the freeway. Often it’s a fancy, patent-leather mary jane. Obvious mate to another perfectly cute number on the right foot of a five-year-old girl. I can’t help but run through the thoughts of that parent.
Bright sunny Sunday. They decide to take the family to church, or to a wedding, or to family pictures. Get everyone all gussied up. Load the car. Buckle in the kids. Off they go. And then, as parents have a conversation about whether a man named Kucinich could possible get elected with a name like that, cutie with the ringlets pops off her shoe – that undoubtedly cost more than mum’s – and tosses it out the window on University just after Lincoln.
You’ve felt the panic before. The driving-me-crazy, I-had-it-just-this-morning, where-the-hell-is-it panic of not being able to find something. I feel this panic just about every day. I loose everything from my debit card to my children’s left socks. So when I see those lonely shoes in the road I suck in hard with the dread of that parent, then I laugh off my bloomin’ arse!
Today, driving down Colorado we saw a plush Lightning McQueen upside down and a bit scruffy. It would shudder a little as the cars zoomed past it. And my thoughts wandered to how it found itself lying on its hood, dust in its plush.
Beautiful fall day. Perfect day for the zoo. Come on kids, let’s go. Yes, you can take one toy. Then as the mother bee-bops along to Madonna’s, “Like a Prayer” McQueen’s biggest fan catapults beloved stuffed car out the window. Then, tonight as the kids are settling down for bed can’t you just hear the screams, the cries, the sobs for, “My favorite Lightning McQueen.” The parent will be turning the house inside out! It’s sad really.
But I will be roaring with laughter. I’m sick. Seriously. Sick.