My husband and I had decided it was time to replace my 14-year-old car. Not only was it falling apart and smelled, but you just can't get into the good carpools with a two-row car. And I need good carpools. I literally have kids at sports practices and games literally every single night of my life. I use the term "literally" because it is burned on my brain after the last carpool with my daughter's lacrosse teammates. They literally said literally about literally 30 times.
As we were driving to CarMax, I began feeling the early warning signs of a panic attack. This came on for several reasons - I hate the car buying process, I hate change, and I hate that I cannot handle the car buying process and change.
As I was deep breathing, we pulled up to the dealership, just in time to see a 57 year old man with a hemp-induced beard casually rolling along the highway on his unicycle. This was clearly a red flag, so I turned to my husband and said, "We need to abort." But he held my hand ever so very tightly onto the gear shift and we pushed through.
So, what defines "a sign"? Is it a hippie on a one-wheel bike? Is it the country fried wisdom on the tire store billboard? Is it the dream at night that seems so real you think it actually happened?
I once had a classmate in an improv acting course who told me that she was intuitive. Intrigued, I asked her what she could tell about me. She said that I believed that I received secret messages from the newspaper. Well ....
I am inclined to disagree with the lady, but not because she may or may not have been a wackadoo, but because I don't believe I receive signs - I believe I LOOK for them. Signs of aging, signs of weakness, signs of trouble at every turn. Clearly, I take all signs as bad ones.
This is where the man in the kilt comes in. About 9:00 o'clock Sunday night, after a long, stressful day of organizing and shuttling and errands and lists, my daughter and I drove to the Kroger for just one more thing. As we were walking in, a man with blue hair in a fully-accessorized kilt came walking out. I tried to telepathically urge my daughter to make a sharp u-turn. But, when I looked over at her to convey this warning, she was smiling. What I took as a sign of clear and present Braveheart danger, she viewed as a quirky little nugget in an otherwise mundane errand. However, as a disclaimer, I should mention that she once tried to take a selfie in front of a drug arrest in a park, and when deciding on an elective for school, she was sold on Forensics when told fake blood would be involved.
But still. I found our different perspectives so interesting, and realized that perhaps I should take a chapter out of her book. Why couldn't the funny little out-of-context men actually be nice signs? Maybe the universe wasn't warning me of something wicked this way coming, but warming me up for something good? Is it possible that I am missing the whole point? Or do I just need to adjust my dosage ....
Like I said, I don't know what my next move is. One thing I do know is that I am going to try it my daughter's way, and attempt to look at the world, and people, with more trusting eyes. And I am definitely going to start reading the newspaper again.
Until next time, keep crowin'!
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