Yesterday, my Monday got off to a rocky start. It began with no heat because last night the heater just decided to quit, which happened to occur on one of California’s coldest nights on record. (I’ll have to check that. Whatever.) It was a mere 28 degrees last night, that’s below freezing. Yeah, I know some of you Northeasterners and Canadians and wherever else it’s as cold as fuck are probably laughing. Yeah, laugh. It’s not supposed to be this cold here. I could barely climb out of bed. This also meant that I should wear a very warm coat, gloves, a scarf….those kinds of things, none of which I own. So…it’s cold, okay!
My son had water polo practice later that day in the pool, in the cold outside. We made it to practice all right, although I questioned the gas gauge of my car as it has been full, even over the full mark, since yesterday, and this after driving at least 250 miles. In other words, it’s not likely this gas gauge was accurate. That should have been my red flag.
I watched my son’s practice in its entirety as he was sure to scold me if I left for the car, never mind that there was only one other parent there braving the extreme cold. After the practice, of course, my son was cold from getting out of the warm pool. Shaking, we both made our way to the car, ready for the heat, but then…the car didn’t start.
My ten-year-old son smirked at me, and said, “I told you this was going to happen.” Did he? No, he didn’t. He went on to tell me that this is what happens in the sitcoms, you see. First, something is strange with the car, like the gas gauge malfunctioning, for example. Next, you’re driving somewhere pretty far away not within walking distance. And lastly, well…I don’t remember that one.
What I will always remember is the little box of Valentine’s sweethearts we shared while waiting for our tow. I just happened to have a box in my purse. You know those sickly, sweet, little hearts with the cute sayings on them? It was our dinner.
He read each one, giving one for himself, and then one for me. We started with Hug Me, Be Mine, Say Yes, Time to Dance (love it), and You Can Do It. (do what?). These are, perhaps, some of the obvious phrases you’ve heard before. There were also many blanks with nothing, and many that just said, It.
But, are you aware that these boxes now include candies with Text Me and Tweet Me? One of the most baffling to my son was, Let’s Ride. I shrugged my shoulders at him. “Strange,” I said. “Maybe a roller coaster?” Give me that. I need more sugar for my sugar high.
Good thing we didn’t come across a Sext Me. Must be a misspelling, I would tell him.
It’s true, I would like to preserve these moments for eternity, and wish I could freeze the clocks.