We had been lacking for warm weather in our area. Winter had made a mockery of Spring so one day when the air was relatively warm I jumped at the opportunity to go to the store - sans kids. I rolled down the windows, looked at the stereo. I realized I could actually listen to it, as loud as I wanted, sing along without my kids harassing me about my singing voice. I turned it up and started dancing and singing along as I drove.
Then I had to stop at the traffic signal. A little sports car with a couple of teenage boys in it pulled up next to me. They looked over and then looked back ahead, obviously unimpressed. I instinctively reached for the mirror on the back of my visor, checking to see what was so unattractive about me. As the mirror folded down I saw reflections of the empty car-seats...in the back of my minivan...no wonder I couldn't hold the interest of the younger generation: I'm no longer one of them.
All I could do was laugh at myself out loud, turn down the too-loud 80's music that was, in all truthfulness, giving me a headache, roll up the windows and finish driving to Wal-Mart where all my purchases reflected both my age and my role as a mother. Which was okay, I was getting a little cold anyway.