On the Run

I Am So Not There

Out the passenger window of the Suburban, I saw them. Driving very slowly through our neighborhood to avoid squashing any stray balls or small children, I couldn't help but notice.

They were a youngish looking couple, taking an evening walk, holding hands. Not too out of the ordinary, but in our hood, a posse of small kids or at the very least, an over-sized stroller are the standard accessories.

So I craned my neck to see if I knew them and then realized that they were not only walking without kids in tow, but they were carrying wine glasses. That's right. I knew it was wine because it was in beautiful, glass-goblet, STEMWARE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! They were strolling through the neighborhood hand-in-hand like it was some paradise, beachy, island, South of France, romantic, cafe thing. I assume they will feed each other gelato later.

Here is my reality: It was 6:00 p.m. and I was still in my workout clothes. No, not to look sporty, but because I actually worked out and I still smelled terrible because who has time to take a shower when your kids have stuck small VERY-ADHESIVE stickers all over your house and colored on themselves with SHARPIES?! We were returning from the fourth Super Target encounter in 2 days in search of the Must Have Star Wars Jedi Deluxe costume for Jackson that will change his life and make him socially acceptable this weekend at the Pumpkin Festival. Maybe he will even get voted Kindergarten Class President and Most Likely to Be an Actual Jedi when he grows up.

The kids were starving and I had no ideas for dinner that didn't involve cereal, and my personal menu involved eating chili for the fourth consecutive night (maybe I'll change up the toppings?)

And there the couple was: swaying up the sidewalk of Camelot, goblets gracefully clasped, like Parker is suddenly some fabulous honeymoon destination and mecca for lovers around the world (nevermind the power lines).

It was so insanely out of of place that my first impulse was to grab my phone and take a picture. I almost reversed to ask them before snapping the photo, then realized I didn't have an explanation other than, "I'm going to write about you and openly laugh at your carefree spirit on my blog!"

Instead, I got hysterical laughing at the striking contradiction of our situations and called my friend, knee-deep in tired kids and lackluster dinner plans of her own. We laughed till we snorted.

I couldn't have been more surpised if I had seen Santa and Mrs. Claus themselves.