Wednesday, June 17, 2009

A Matter of Perspective

We were stuck in a downpour today and periodic flash floods, me and the five kids and a screaming baby, coming back from a friend's house. So bad, in fact, that we had to pull over more than once and wait it out on the highway shoulder. At least I could nurse at those times. It got so late, we had dinner at Cracker Barrel in soaked clothes. We were lost at a few points (way lost--like, are we at the coast? kind of lost) having missed our exits for lack of seeing them, or seeing anything for that matter, such was the visibility.

We ended up at a Burger King later still for an emergency bathroom break and when I took the opportunity to nurse the baby again in the back seat an employee came out seeing all the children and nobody in the driver's seat and asked "Where's your mother?" I raised my hand sheepishly as I was nursing the baby, still buckled into his seat in the parking lot if you know what I mean.

It was miserable.

It was more than miserable and so I was surprised when we finally arrived home at 10:00 pm and Zachary thanked me. "For what?" I asked. "For taking us on this journey," he said. "Did you like this journey?" I asked. "Oh yes," he said.

I'm glad he did.

But this is the same kid who on the way there asked me, "Mama is it true you jumped out of a moving car when you were a little girl?"

Yes, Zachary.

"Is it true you broke both your arms in one summer when you were little?"

Yes.

"Oh man, it isn't fair" he said, "You never do things like that anymore."