Today I said goodbye to my eldest and my husband. They are off to explore the east coast, Eee's old stomping ground. A few oddities:
* It's the first vacation Eee has ever taken, literally the first. Every other trip has been for family reunions, funerals, work, or other obligations. Once he went to Mexico with a school group. Never has he taken his own self-propelled vacation. Wow.
* It's the first time Vee has seen the east coast, a deep regret of mine. I wish I had taken my kids on the get-to-know-America tour back in their middle school years when it was most appropriate.
* It's the first time in a long time that Vee and Eee have had a chance to hang out, just the two of them, since we used to do Father/Son Time ages ago, literally five years ago. Wow.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
"Happy" and emotional intelligence
It won't come as a shock to anyone that I probably score low in emotional intelligence. I haven't actually taken any EQ tests, but I guarantee I would score low if I did take anything that measured my ability to perform well in that particular regard.
One of the aspects I have been working on lately is on "looking away when trying to postpone temporary satisfaction for a greater, later reward." The words, "look away" come to mind often during the day. I am not very good at it. I tend to hammer at a problem until it's fixed. But, that's not always the intelligent choice.
So, practical application = earlier this week, when going through a particularly rough spot, I was trying to "look away" from a temporarily unsolvable problem that needed time and space to solve itself. Crying wasn't helping. "Working through the issues" was just getting me deeper into yuckiness. I don't drink, smoke or do anything else to numb pain, so my options were limited. I needed something mighty powerful to boost, distract, and refocus me on other, happier topics.
I have no idea why this came to mind, but I remembered a bottle of expensive hand lotion my Mom & Dad got me for Christmas, Clinque Happy. I ran and got it, rubbed it on and disappeared into the sensation of the fragrance. There is something so magically deep about the Happy smell. Every time I smell it, I remember springtime on the farm where I grew up. Sometimes, especially in the spring when the smells of the outdoors were sweeter and fresher than any other season, I would go out to the field and lie down in the grass. It was so much taller than me that it would completely engulf me except for a spot of sky. It was a scary sort of sweetness. I could never be fully sure that a goat or cow wouldn't casually wander over and step on me if I dozed off. Even if I was fully alert, it was easy enough for a spider to creep on over and climb right across me, but that was the exact sort of experience I currently was in -- scared about doing something with a certain risk factor, yet embracing the joy to be had in the springtime field. Happy is like that smell of that grassy field plus the smell of a million of your favorite flowers.
EQ raised by at least five points, so my score is at least 5. Woot!
One of the aspects I have been working on lately is on "looking away when trying to postpone temporary satisfaction for a greater, later reward." The words, "look away" come to mind often during the day. I am not very good at it. I tend to hammer at a problem until it's fixed. But, that's not always the intelligent choice.
So, practical application = earlier this week, when going through a particularly rough spot, I was trying to "look away" from a temporarily unsolvable problem that needed time and space to solve itself. Crying wasn't helping. "Working through the issues" was just getting me deeper into yuckiness. I don't drink, smoke or do anything else to numb pain, so my options were limited. I needed something mighty powerful to boost, distract, and refocus me on other, happier topics.
I have no idea why this came to mind, but I remembered a bottle of expensive hand lotion my Mom & Dad got me for Christmas, Clinque Happy. I ran and got it, rubbed it on and disappeared into the sensation of the fragrance. There is something so magically deep about the Happy smell. Every time I smell it, I remember springtime on the farm where I grew up. Sometimes, especially in the spring when the smells of the outdoors were sweeter and fresher than any other season, I would go out to the field and lie down in the grass. It was so much taller than me that it would completely engulf me except for a spot of sky. It was a scary sort of sweetness. I could never be fully sure that a goat or cow wouldn't casually wander over and step on me if I dozed off. Even if I was fully alert, it was easy enough for a spider to creep on over and climb right across me, but that was the exact sort of experience I currently was in -- scared about doing something with a certain risk factor, yet embracing the joy to be had in the springtime field. Happy is like that smell of that grassy field plus the smell of a million of your favorite flowers.
EQ raised by at least five points, so my score is at least 5. Woot!
Out-run by a 6 yo
I have run cross country, track... have sprinted, run long-distance, done hurdles, relays, the works... and tonight I saw my little 6 yo out-run me.
To top it off, it's the first time little Jee has run with us. I was reading bedtime stories to him and his sister and he overheard me say to the Big Vee, "Hey, let's go out on a run after this."
Jee piped up with, "I want to go! I do. I do!"
"But we run really fast. You won't be able to keep up."
"Wha...? I can run faster than you can!"
"But we run a really long ways, several miles. You won't be able to make it back home."
"Wha...? Did you SEE me last night? I did like 600 jumping jacks. I have endurenss." (He did do 600+. It takes quite a while to do that many reps.)
"But it's your bedtime."
"And I'm not tired! See!" (he spreads his eyes wide open with his fingers)
"But it's raining."
"I love rain!"
"But you're not dressed properly."
And off he runs to dress himself exactly like how we are dressed so that there are no more excuses for why he can't go.
"Fine, you can come... But you have to keep up!"
For nearly the entire run, he was *ahead* of both Vee and Me.
It was so awesome. The rain was coming down slow & gentle, just enough to tell the body that Mother Nature is taking care of hydration issues. But the best part was seeing sparky little Jee running full speed ahead of me.
Even though I warned him to pace himself, he took off like a bullet. Vee had to sprint to get him at the intersections. It was after dark and street lighting is bad. We protected him at intersections.
Jee's little body is pure lean muscle, runner's muscle, thin and swift. He eats mostly fruits, more than 5 a day. He was telling me the other day when I tried to feed him a meat & potatoes meal, "Mom, I'm not a carnivore. I'm a vegetarian or a vegan. I don't know (pause for thought) I'm a health-avore. That's not a word is it... I guess I'm a fruitavore." He's 6 yo and still at around the 50 lb mark. Our cat weighs nearly 20. So, he's 2 1/2 cats worth. I digress.
The sweet spot of this run was the block before the sprint. (The last block is the sprint.) Jee finally was slowing down and asked to be carried. Vee hoisted him up on his shoulders and kept running. I looked over as we ran and saw Jee and Vee backlit by the occasional porch light, Jee's face upturned in the rain, laughing into the night. Vee's shoulders spread wide and strong to carry him easily. I cried. I knew I would never be able to capture that moment fully enough.
The second sweet spot was hearing Vee tell Jee, "Ok, now I've got to put you down. I need to run fast." The second Jee's feet touched the ground, Vee swivelled and sprinted off so fast it was actually a bit scary. Seeing someone disappear into the night like that is a bit disconcerting. Jee followed in his wake and I got to see my children, 1st gen and 2nd gen taking off into the distance. Again, pure beauty.
I'm so lucky.
To top it off, it's the first time little Jee has run with us. I was reading bedtime stories to him and his sister and he overheard me say to the Big Vee, "Hey, let's go out on a run after this."
Jee piped up with, "I want to go! I do. I do!"
"But we run really fast. You won't be able to keep up."
"Wha...? I can run faster than you can!"
"But we run a really long ways, several miles. You won't be able to make it back home."
"Wha...? Did you SEE me last night? I did like 600 jumping jacks. I have endurenss." (He did do 600+. It takes quite a while to do that many reps.)
"But it's your bedtime."
"And I'm not tired! See!" (he spreads his eyes wide open with his fingers)
"But it's raining."
"I love rain!"
"But you're not dressed properly."
And off he runs to dress himself exactly like how we are dressed so that there are no more excuses for why he can't go.
"Fine, you can come... But you have to keep up!"
For nearly the entire run, he was *ahead* of both Vee and Me.
It was so awesome. The rain was coming down slow & gentle, just enough to tell the body that Mother Nature is taking care of hydration issues. But the best part was seeing sparky little Jee running full speed ahead of me.
Even though I warned him to pace himself, he took off like a bullet. Vee had to sprint to get him at the intersections. It was after dark and street lighting is bad. We protected him at intersections.
Jee's little body is pure lean muscle, runner's muscle, thin and swift. He eats mostly fruits, more than 5 a day. He was telling me the other day when I tried to feed him a meat & potatoes meal, "Mom, I'm not a carnivore. I'm a vegetarian or a vegan. I don't know (pause for thought) I'm a health-avore. That's not a word is it... I guess I'm a fruitavore." He's 6 yo and still at around the 50 lb mark. Our cat weighs nearly 20. So, he's 2 1/2 cats worth. I digress.
The sweet spot of this run was the block before the sprint. (The last block is the sprint.) Jee finally was slowing down and asked to be carried. Vee hoisted him up on his shoulders and kept running. I looked over as we ran and saw Jee and Vee backlit by the occasional porch light, Jee's face upturned in the rain, laughing into the night. Vee's shoulders spread wide and strong to carry him easily. I cried. I knew I would never be able to capture that moment fully enough.
The second sweet spot was hearing Vee tell Jee, "Ok, now I've got to put you down. I need to run fast." The second Jee's feet touched the ground, Vee swivelled and sprinted off so fast it was actually a bit scary. Seeing someone disappear into the night like that is a bit disconcerting. Jee followed in his wake and I got to see my children, 1st gen and 2nd gen taking off into the distance. Again, pure beauty.
I'm so lucky.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Big mistake
I have to be up and coherent at 5 am so I went to bed at 9 pm for a good night's sleep.
One mistake: I had to send one last email before hitting the hay or I would worry about it until morning.
But that one email led to me checking my Reader.
I should know better!
About two weeks of backed-up blog posts were there from some of my favorite people in the world. Can't read just one, must check them all!
And now it's late and I'm not even tired anymore.
Doh!
Why do you all have to be so interesting? Aren't most blogs supposed to be boring & random? Every single blog that I checked on my Reader this time had great updates. If only you all could be boring! Maybe I could have gotten away with just checking a few and still getting a good night's sleep.
One mistake: I had to send one last email before hitting the hay or I would worry about it until morning.
But that one email led to me checking my Reader.
I should know better!
About two weeks of backed-up blog posts were there from some of my favorite people in the world. Can't read just one, must check them all!
And now it's late and I'm not even tired anymore.
Doh!
Why do you all have to be so interesting? Aren't most blogs supposed to be boring & random? Every single blog that I checked on my Reader this time had great updates. If only you all could be boring! Maybe I could have gotten away with just checking a few and still getting a good night's sleep.
Dinner's on
It can be so amazingly fun to have a good family dinner. I want it to be good like that every night so...
1. I invested in some funky, beautiful serving trays, new plates, etc. Food tastes better when it looks beautiful. Case in point: We have a couple over who come over regularly. Usually, we talk about other things as dinner begins. This time it was, "Wow, the meal looks incredible! What a great spread... can't wait to dig in..." How do you respond to that? "It's just prettier plates. Sorry." My favorite new platter looks like a fish. When the kids see it, they start singing that "Fish Heads" song from an old British comedy (I think). They also eat what's on the platter more willingly. Seems like magic, but it's just the Power of Perception.
2. I checked out a Chez Panisse cookbook. Kids really can tell the difference between high quality and low quality foods. Sophisticated taste buds are not reserved for the over-18 crowd. To highlight their gourmand abilities, we have apple taste testing contests, vanilla taste testing contests (who knew good vanilla could be so expensive?), and cheese taste testing (plug your nose!). We are having fun.
3. I stopped working during the witching hours (about 5 to 8 pm), thus allowing me and by default others to relax more during dinner.
My only complaint is that dinnertime isn't long enough. Aee fell asleep at the table tonight and last night.
1. I invested in some funky, beautiful serving trays, new plates, etc. Food tastes better when it looks beautiful. Case in point: We have a couple over who come over regularly. Usually, we talk about other things as dinner begins. This time it was, "Wow, the meal looks incredible! What a great spread... can't wait to dig in..." How do you respond to that? "It's just prettier plates. Sorry." My favorite new platter looks like a fish. When the kids see it, they start singing that "Fish Heads" song from an old British comedy (I think). They also eat what's on the platter more willingly. Seems like magic, but it's just the Power of Perception.
2. I checked out a Chez Panisse cookbook. Kids really can tell the difference between high quality and low quality foods. Sophisticated taste buds are not reserved for the over-18 crowd. To highlight their gourmand abilities, we have apple taste testing contests, vanilla taste testing contests (who knew good vanilla could be so expensive?), and cheese taste testing (plug your nose!). We are having fun.
3. I stopped working during the witching hours (about 5 to 8 pm), thus allowing me and by default others to relax more during dinner.
My only complaint is that dinnertime isn't long enough. Aee fell asleep at the table tonight and last night.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Birthdays
We spent a good chunk of the day at a birthday party for a friend.
I love birthdays. I especially love it when people have creative parties.
My favorite recent party was at Tilden Park. The kids ran and played. There was a huge pile of dress-up clothes in the middle of a grassy area and the kids had stars in their eyes, imaginative play big time.
During today's party, I heard the comment, "It's just non-stop parties" and of course, I had to start calculating...
The average kid has 20 potential friends in his own class, plus 10 more from other classrooms that they meet and friendship on the playground or in after-school classes. For mine, there is another social group of 10 more. Friends from previous classes 15 more (T-ball, karate, orchestra). Then there are a few stragglers, friends from previous years, 15 more. Then a few friends who tag along because parents know each other and the kids get to play when parents are together, about 10 more. Finally, if they have siblings that are close in age, then they get invited to sib's friend's parties, 10 more (but usually more).
So, for the average child, there are about 90 parties per year, usually on weekends, so about 1.73 parties per weekend. Thank goodness parents usually get creative in when, where, and how to throw the party.
I was sitting there, calculating this while the cake's candles were being lit and the song was being sung at today's birthday party. It's relaxing to casually calculate something in the back of my mind while something else is going on. I was thinking, "1.73, that's doable, not so bad."
Unfortunately, right as the candles were being blown out, I remembered, "Oh crud, I have FOUR kids. Times FOUR."
No wonder!
I love birthdays. I especially love it when people have creative parties.
My favorite recent party was at Tilden Park. The kids ran and played. There was a huge pile of dress-up clothes in the middle of a grassy area and the kids had stars in their eyes, imaginative play big time.
During today's party, I heard the comment, "It's just non-stop parties" and of course, I had to start calculating...
The average kid has 20 potential friends in his own class, plus 10 more from other classrooms that they meet and friendship on the playground or in after-school classes. For mine, there is another social group of 10 more. Friends from previous classes 15 more (T-ball, karate, orchestra). Then there are a few stragglers, friends from previous years, 15 more. Then a few friends who tag along because parents know each other and the kids get to play when parents are together, about 10 more. Finally, if they have siblings that are close in age, then they get invited to sib's friend's parties, 10 more (but usually more).
So, for the average child, there are about 90 parties per year, usually on weekends, so about 1.73 parties per weekend. Thank goodness parents usually get creative in when, where, and how to throw the party.
I was sitting there, calculating this while the cake's candles were being lit and the song was being sung at today's birthday party. It's relaxing to casually calculate something in the back of my mind while something else is going on. I was thinking, "1.73, that's doable, not so bad."
Unfortunately, right as the candles were being blown out, I remembered, "Oh crud, I have FOUR kids. Times FOUR."
No wonder!
Friday, March 14, 2008
Five deep
I had to apologize to a friend today for missing an appointment that I had promised I would attend. I didn't realize I had missed my 9:30 until several hours after it was over. I looked at my calendar with my jaw dropped in that slightly stupid expression. How could I have missed it?
Maybe, just maybe, because I was scheduled five deep that morning. I had a 8:30 that went late; I had to be home since the house was swarmed with contractors-with-questions; I had to get the morning deliveries; my husband needed me to drive him all over SF and Oakland to get his car back; and, yes, the fateful appt that I missed.
I got three out of five. Not bad. That's my new motto: "Not bad = success". Sometimes all you have to do to solve a problem is lower the bar.
Maybe, just maybe, because I was scheduled five deep that morning. I had a 8:30 that went late; I had to be home since the house was swarmed with contractors-with-questions; I had to get the morning deliveries; my husband needed me to drive him all over SF and Oakland to get his car back; and, yes, the fateful appt that I missed.
I got three out of five. Not bad. That's my new motto: "Not bad = success". Sometimes all you have to do to solve a problem is lower the bar.
Locked in
At the end of the school day today, I peeked in Jee's classroom and saw him sitting in the story circle with his jacket on. This particular jacket is a stunningly cool yellow windbreaker that looks just like sunshine and Pikachu wrapped up together. We got it for Vee when he was in The Pokemon Phase. It is a thin jacket, but it great for cold weather since it heats up inside quickly. I wondered why Jee was wearing a jacket -- it is hot out today. When he turned around, red-faced and obviously overheating, his little hand motions explained his peculiar over-dressing.
He grabbed his jacket zipper and did a little Tug-Tug and made a big frustrated smile that showed all his wobbly teeth. He couldn't take his jacket off because he was stuck inside it.
Ha.
He grabbed his jacket zipper and did a little Tug-Tug and made a big frustrated smile that showed all his wobbly teeth. He couldn't take his jacket off because he was stuck inside it.
Ha.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Things you never thought you would say in the average course of the day
Lately, I have been enamored with shifts in perspective. You know how one minute you can see something one way then in a heartbeat, your perspective shifts.
This evening, with no actual time to accomplish this task, I finished up my price checking on refrigerators, tried to buy a fridge at a local shop (but pretty little lady in pink wasn't going to get a good price, so...). I zoomed over to Costco, found one on an incredibly good sale, got it, loaded it into the minivan (yes, it was one bizarre squeeze), and then called my men to unload it. Eee tore a muscle in his shoulder early in the game. Vee and Kee did most of the lifting / pulling.
At one point, we had the fridge carefully positioned sliding slowly down the stairs to the lower unit. Vee and Kee, my babies were on the under side of the refrigerator and Eee and I were on the upper side of the stairs, keeping it from falling on them. Aee was inside the upper level of the house and she screamed like something is horribly wrong, "MOM, COME QUICK!"
What do I do? Leave my two young men to be squashed by a 400 pound refrigerator? Or go help my youngest child who is crying for help?
I pushed the fridge down quickly, encouraging all the men to "hurry it up!" and with the fridge at a relatively non-deadly spot, I run full speed upstairs, "What's wrong? What's wrong? Are you ok?"
Aee, in tears says, "My paper ripped!'
I experience a brief whiplash, then spout, "Aee, your brothers are being squashed by a refrigerator. Come help!"
The paper is forgotten and we go help the straining men.
It was a great day. When I woke this morning I would have bet a million dollars that I would not use the phrase "squashed by a refrigerator" today.
This evening, with no actual time to accomplish this task, I finished up my price checking on refrigerators, tried to buy a fridge at a local shop (but pretty little lady in pink wasn't going to get a good price, so...). I zoomed over to Costco, found one on an incredibly good sale, got it, loaded it into the minivan (yes, it was one bizarre squeeze), and then called my men to unload it. Eee tore a muscle in his shoulder early in the game. Vee and Kee did most of the lifting / pulling.
At one point, we had the fridge carefully positioned sliding slowly down the stairs to the lower unit. Vee and Kee, my babies were on the under side of the refrigerator and Eee and I were on the upper side of the stairs, keeping it from falling on them. Aee was inside the upper level of the house and she screamed like something is horribly wrong, "MOM, COME QUICK!"
What do I do? Leave my two young men to be squashed by a 400 pound refrigerator? Or go help my youngest child who is crying for help?
I pushed the fridge down quickly, encouraging all the men to "hurry it up!" and with the fridge at a relatively non-deadly spot, I run full speed upstairs, "What's wrong? What's wrong? Are you ok?"
Aee, in tears says, "My paper ripped!'
I experience a brief whiplash, then spout, "Aee, your brothers are being squashed by a refrigerator. Come help!"
The paper is forgotten and we go help the straining men.
It was a great day. When I woke this morning I would have bet a million dollars that I would not use the phrase "squashed by a refrigerator" today.
Counting pennies
I was cleaning up the kitchen tonight, realizing that my breakfast cost only 27 cents, my lunch only 75 cents and dinner for the entire family was only 3.50 (about 60 cents per person). Yes, I like to calculate out the percentages used, and yes, I do remember with surprising accuracy the cost of each item in my cupboards.
Breakfast = Indian lentils over sticky rice (amazingly yummy, especially for breakfast)
Lunch = a monster salad, my favorite kind
Dinner = (note that my teenagers made dinner since I was out) Hamburger Helper and rolls
For about 10 seconds I felt like pretty hot stuff, one careful cooker extraordinaire and then I realized *why* the food budget has been going well. Could it be because we just had to unload about $6k on new dual pane windows? Or because we dropped $1k on a new fridge for the rental unit? Or maybe because we have a looming big expense, probably about $30k for a new vehicle for my beloved.
Those lentil beans had better be good for the long haul.
Seriously, this might be the best diet plan ever.
Breakfast = Indian lentils over sticky rice (amazingly yummy, especially for breakfast)
Lunch = a monster salad, my favorite kind
Dinner = (note that my teenagers made dinner since I was out) Hamburger Helper and rolls
For about 10 seconds I felt like pretty hot stuff, one careful cooker extraordinaire and then I realized *why* the food budget has been going well. Could it be because we just had to unload about $6k on new dual pane windows? Or because we dropped $1k on a new fridge for the rental unit? Or maybe because we have a looming big expense, probably about $30k for a new vehicle for my beloved.
Those lentil beans had better be good for the long haul.
Seriously, this might be the best diet plan ever.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
What did you say?
Jee is in a Mandarain Chinese class and his teacher, an adorable teacher wtih 30 years of teaching under her belt, told me the other day:
"He has a good tongue."
All I could think was, "What the heck? You mean, maybe, he has good math skills or his writing is coming along nicely, right? What has his tongue got to do with it?"
She noted my look of confusion, and since her English is still heavily accented, she repeated, "He has a good tongue."
I had a look of utter bewilderment on my face, I'm sure.
She laughed, politely of course, and explained that most English speaking children have a hard time moving their tongues in the proper way to make certain sounds. Jee's tongue didn't have those limitations and he was learning the language easily.
The other day I picked him up from school and his teacher was speaking to him in full sentences, about 4 or 5 sentences worth by my untrained estimation. Jake responded with an equally complex answer, not a repetition of what she had said, but a unique, truly communicative response to her question.
I stood their with my jaw on the floor.
My immediate vision was of travelling to Shang'hai with him as our guide. In that little interaction, I saw the world open up a bit.
Aee is learning Spanish which opens up quite a few countries.
I know French which opens up Canada, France, and quite a few islands.
Vee and Kee are learning Latin so we can go to ... the Vatican city?
Doh.
"He has a good tongue."
All I could think was, "What the heck? You mean, maybe, he has good math skills or his writing is coming along nicely, right? What has his tongue got to do with it?"
She noted my look of confusion, and since her English is still heavily accented, she repeated, "He has a good tongue."
I had a look of utter bewilderment on my face, I'm sure.
She laughed, politely of course, and explained that most English speaking children have a hard time moving their tongues in the proper way to make certain sounds. Jee's tongue didn't have those limitations and he was learning the language easily.
The other day I picked him up from school and his teacher was speaking to him in full sentences, about 4 or 5 sentences worth by my untrained estimation. Jake responded with an equally complex answer, not a repetition of what she had said, but a unique, truly communicative response to her question.
I stood their with my jaw on the floor.
My immediate vision was of travelling to Shang'hai with him as our guide. In that little interaction, I saw the world open up a bit.
Aee is learning Spanish which opens up quite a few countries.
I know French which opens up Canada, France, and quite a few islands.
Vee and Kee are learning Latin so we can go to ... the Vatican city?
Doh.
She shoots; she scores
So, as it turns out, Aee is quite a baseball player. Eee took the little ones to the park today and when he came back, he said, "Hey, did you know that your daughter is a natural baseball player?"
Yup!
She's also a natural scientist, cook, publisher, writer, painter, teacher, etc.
Her strongest current interest is science, anything about "performing experiments" and "testing hypotheses".
The other day I was working on my laptop and she came over to me, brushed my hair back so she could whisper in my ear: "Mom... I'm a scientist. Did you know that? I love the world."
Then she pulled back and I saw that misty look of awe in her eyes.
Yup, she's a natural.
Yup!
She's also a natural scientist, cook, publisher, writer, painter, teacher, etc.
Her strongest current interest is science, anything about "performing experiments" and "testing hypotheses".
The other day I was working on my laptop and she came over to me, brushed my hair back so she could whisper in my ear: "Mom... I'm a scientist. Did you know that? I love the world."
Then she pulled back and I saw that misty look of awe in her eyes.
Yup, she's a natural.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Paralleling the cyclist
On our way home from a party tonight, we had everybody in the car, plus two bikes and loads of gear. We had the windows wide open to the brisk evening air and the radio playing great dance music. We were coasting down Virginia, a nice straight road with a slight declining slope and intermittent stop signs. It was fully dark with the occasional street light. There was a cyclist in the biking lane right next to us and we noticed he was going at a good clip, about 30 mph. We know his mph because we paralleled him most of the way.
Aee read the speedometer and piped up. "Mom! Speed limit 25!"
I hear this from little Aee often, usually when I'm going >25.
Me to no one in particular, "Hey, biker, you're speeding."
Kee from the very back seat, "So are you."
Snickers of laughter.
So (remember, windows open) when we were fully parallel to said cyclist I said in a regular voice, "Hey, you're speeding."
With the cadence of a stand-up comedian, he said without turning his head, "So are you."
Ha.
We followed at a respectful distance for the rest of the way down Virginia. Go bikers!
Aee read the speedometer and piped up. "Mom! Speed limit 25!"
I hear this from little Aee often, usually when I'm going >25.
Me to no one in particular, "Hey, biker, you're speeding."
Kee from the very back seat, "So are you."
Snickers of laughter.
So (remember, windows open) when we were fully parallel to said cyclist I said in a regular voice, "Hey, you're speeding."
With the cadence of a stand-up comedian, he said without turning his head, "So are you."
Ha.
We followed at a respectful distance for the rest of the way down Virginia. Go bikers!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)