the tempering effects of motherhood

I was walking from the skate shop, having just bought my eight-year-old new shoes big enough for ME to wear, and I got the old HONK, WOO-HOO from a passing car. I glanced back (trying to see around my swelling ego). I didn't know the guy, but he gave me a wave and a big grin and I gave him an appreciative lift of the chin--a gesture I've perfected from riding around in the jeep in a state with about fifty jeeps per square mile.

My kid said, "That car honked at you."



Shrug. "I guess he thinks I'm pretty."

Skeptical look. "Why would he think that?"

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