|I am definitely wearing my seatbelt.|
Today as I pulled into the pre-school parking lot, I glimpsed an immaculate white Mercedes SL 500 with sparkling silver rims and a car seat strapped across the front passenger side. I remembered for a moment the car that I was dropped off and picked up in for daycare as a toddler. A gutsy, roaring gunmetal grey Chevy Nova--with the look of a 70's muscle car and the roar of a truck engine. My mom was no fashion plate, but I remember her racing pickups on the red dirt splattered Oklahoma highway--with me whooping it up in the backseat shouting, "Go Momma Go!" To say I had an unconventional childhood would be putting it mildly. However, I still look back with awe and admiration at my mom in her cut-offs and cowboy boots, bringing a sense of enthusiasm to even the most mundane of tasks. And she left those truckers in a cloud of dust every time.