My husband asked me out to dinner tonight.
“Did you start making dinner already?”
“Well, just started,” I replied.
“How about a nice outside table at the local Italian place?”
“Sounds fantastic,” I said. And deliciously spontaneous, I thought.
“Great. Andrew and I will be waiting.” He had our 5-yr old with him. I would bring the two little ones. “Oh, and bring a cooler with ice, we have perishables from the grocery store in my trunk.” Okay, I thought, we’ll call it suburban spontaneous.
I slipped into my heels.
I slid into the minivan with my cooler and my children.
The one year old sucked his thumb. The three year old was screaming. (She doesn’t nap, but probably should some days).
Like any sensitive mother of three, I turned up the music.
She fell asleep in under a minute and I was quickly enveloped by the loud music, off into my own thoughts, imagining a fabulous dinner and a glass of wine. Then I saw it. It was a pristine, bright red, loud and proud Corvette.
Ha! I scoffed. Just a Corvette?
I passed him.
It felt good. For those few seconds, I felt the acceleration: the thrill. I was one with the engine and the road.
For those few seconds it was all about me.
Authors note: Yes, my minivan went 20 to 40mph in under 30 seconds. The Corvette didn’t notice (okay, he was only going 30mph and was probably lost). Hey, this is suburban spontaneous, what were you expecting, really?
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