Tuesday, September 23, 2008

For his future therapist

Add this to the list of things he will talk about with his therapist when he’s an adult:

Last week, while secretly scouting out some birthday presents for daddy, I realized that I was singing loudly to Blind Melon (don’t judge me … I just can’t help it, I’m a product of the 80s and 90s) shamelessly with my windows open while driving like a jerk. Well, I apparently cut some lady off that was driving super slow, so she honked at me and flicked me off. The nerve, who flicks people off anymore? This isn’t Brooklyn New York in the 90s. I’d like to say that I ignored her and then explained to Carter that people should not act on anger or aggression, and instead should show composure and patience. Nope - I yelled … well, I yelled something that wasn’t nice that rhymes with “meet me” out my window.

If those turn out to be Carter’s first two words, I plan to tell Chad that he said it one night when he was drinking…and Carter picked it up from him. Because what kind of horrible mother would say that in front of her little baby boy all snug in his car seat wearing a pooh hat and monkey overalls?

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