We are driving home on a beautiful Saturday afternoon from my son's football game. I am in my usual jovial mood (*evil mother laugh*).
In the rear seats of my van are my son, my daughter and my niece.
I decide, as I often do, to strike up a conversation with my carpool passengers, as a way to pass the time and so I say, "Little Billy, what position do you play?" Something I should know, of course, but don't, as I have never asked (I'm such a good Mom).
He sort of mumbles something that I can not hear.
So ... I ask again, "Do you know what position you play, Son?"
Again, he doesn't answer so that I can make out what he is saying. And so I ask once again.
He wiggles around in his seat, looks at my eyes in the rear view mirror and he says, "Left - something," in a huff, and goes back to looking out the window.
Thanks so much, Son, for engaging in meaningful conversation - that's all I needed to know (left-something - ACK!).
In the very rear of the van sit my female carpool passengers - the lovely little girls.
My daughter suddenly yells up to the carpool driver, "Cousin is mad because she's got sparkles on her hand."
I look back at them in my rear view mirror and hold my breath.
There is an obnoxiously loud groan and then Cousin screams, "I don't LIKE SPARKLES!"
Daughter screams back, getting very close to Cousin's face, "THEY ARE JUST STINKIN' SPARKLES!," at the top of her lungs.
Cousin begins to cry.
And then ... the Happy Fairy flew right out the back window of our car... taking all of her sparkles with her.
On the upside ... Next time I will just know better than to allow these children to play outside on a beautiful Fall day with the sun shining and the breeze blowing - with their friends on the ball field and their little bag of snacks and juice boxes ... Next time I will just know better and keep them locked up in the house ... chained to the TV.