Most teenagers claim that their parents are weird and embarrassing. When our teens say it, they are quite warranted. Today was no exception.
Today was the last day of school and was a half day. Our daughter found herself home in the afternoon with me on lunch break and her sick father. Our latest family craving has been Crystal Light pink lemonade and we were all out of it. She really wanted some, but was not willing to walk to the store and back, so she begged her parents for a ride. Not wanting to drive her, I was happy to discover that I had to start walking back to work because my lunch break was almost over. She proceeded to beg her father who, by the way, suffered from a pretty bad case of man-flu.
As he reluctantly agreed, I stood up and said, “Well, I had better start walking now” and just then there was a decent clap of thunder. I swung around and begged myself, “Please, pleeeessse, can I have ride? You are going to the store already” Anyone who knows me well, knows that I have a huge fear of thunderstorms, bordering on phobia. There was no way that I was walking now. It took all the courage I had to just get to the car from the front door of the house.
By the time we got to the car, we were smack dab in the middle of the thunder storm with rain pelting down on the windshield and rivers running down the streets. As we started out, just the short jog from the house to the car threw that man-flu into a full blown coughing fit.
As he hacked away, he started to slow way down, I mean I could have crawled faster that what he was going. I looked out of the window and up in the sky and right at that moment, a flash of lightning lit up the sky. I swear right above us. The thunder was so loud it shook the car. I started to freak out and exclaimed, “Oh crap!” out loud which made the coughing fit worse since he thought that I was talking about him.
Roger continued to hack, but this time way worse and as soon as his lungs were out of air, he would gag. So now, between my panic attacks, secretly chanting to myself, “oh crap, oh crap, oh crap”, and praying that mister man-flu would stop coughing so that he could put the pedal to the metal and get me out of the apocalypse, I started to gag as well.
Somehow, with all of this going on, I managed to look behind me, and in the backseat was a very traumatized teen with her fingers in her ears. I’m pretty sure that this was the last time that she will beg for a ride. I must say though, that it was the longest half mile I have ever experienced in a car. I’m sure that she must agree.