So ... I am in the van driving with my car load of kids.
There is music playing on the radio.
There are 3-4 different conversations going on - *jibber-jabber, jibber-jabber, jibber-jabber*.
My mind is trying to keep up and I join in on the discussions when and where I am supposed to.
I am trying to keep my eyes on the road - navigate my van safely through the busy city and simultaneously navigate my thoughts rationally in and around the chaotic ramblings of my children.
We talk about this.
We talk about that.
There's a bit of arguing (we can't talk about anything without a bit of arguing by someone).
Alexis squeals.
Little Billy throws an object.
I keep on driving.
Then ...
*Silence*
Everyone stops talking.
The music is still playing, but it is soft and low.
I take notice of the bird crap and smears on my filthy windshield.
I am conscience of the traffic racing around me in all directions - the honking horns - the sirens - the changing traffic lights.
I hear the music coming from the IPOD Alexis has fed into her ears.
My mind drifts ...
My mind drifts ...
My mind drifts ...
"Is my hair a mess?" I say - looking in Courtney's direction.
Courtney, sitting in the passenger seat across from me, looks my way and snarls. "I think that's your default question," she laughs. "You always ask that question when there's nothing being talked about - you always ask if your hair's a mess."
"Um, yeah ...
"So ... is it?"
On the upside ... It's true - it's because it's really the only thing I care about *tee hee*.
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