So, Friday night, after B and K3 left for cub scout camp, I had to take K2 and her bestest friend to my sisters to assist with my niece's sleepover birthday party. K4 had already been picked up by my sister in a convoluted trade-off related to space, time and cooking pans. Don't ask. It's me and 3 teenagers in my husbands little car.
The trip didn't start out the best - did I mention this car is small? Teenage girls have "stuff" and I had two of them, plus K4's stuff, and I had to pick up the birthday cake. We won't discuss what happened in the middle of the grocery store - suffice it to say that it was one of those moments that made me understand why most wild animals don't let their kids hang around once they learn how to feed themselves.
We get back in the car, the cake perched precariously on teenaged knees. And the radio station fights started. What K1 liked, the girls did not. What they liked, he moaned in disgust over. They finally agreed to take turns. (Unbelievable as that is.) K1 was in charge of scanning the stations and that's when it happened.
An 80's love song - one I know by heart. I guess I should be ashamed to admit that, but oh well. I told him he'd better change the station before I started singing.
He didn't.
I did warn them. I said, "You'd better change it before this song gets stuck in my head and I start singing." Well, the song got stuck and I sang it to them, loudly and way worse than my normal terribleness, the rest of the drive. I guess I should be embarrased that my vocal skills created a lot of laughter, but it was the kind of moment that I'll remember forever.
Besides the grocery store tift, the evening turned out well. The car singing was fun. Dinner with my son was fun and the movie we watched afterward filled me with ideas for a new story.
Not too bad.
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