Last night at dinner the kids were being their normal selves. You'd think we mainlined them coke or something by the way they act sometimes; both talking at the same time, the Boy jumping up from his seat to show us a dance move on the kitchen floor or the Girl going on about the operation she just watched on Discovery.
I was sitting there, fairly about to explode with pride at the dinner I'd made--fried chicken (which I've done about five times in my life), homemade HEART-SHAPED biscuits (if Bisquick constitutes homemade) and fresh broccoli. I was beaming.
The kids were talking about songs and words in songs etc. and I said even when they're teen agers there will probably be music I won't let them listen to. They didn't bite on that and didn't really care. Then the Hubby and I started talking and he brought up all these songs we listened to (he still tries to convince me Love Shack by the B52's is about an orgy) and I can't be a prude when it comes to the kids.
True, I wouldn't be a prude but neither do I think they need to listen to songs about killing hos or shooting cops or belittling women, etc. The Hubby said well as long as the Boy doesn't come home with his baggy pants showing his boxers. I said that could be a problem especially with our Boy who freebird's 99% of the time. (Wow, that was a circuitous story to tie into the title of this post!)
...and now for the dilemma.
Friday afternoon I was visiting a showroom for work. It was late in the afternoon, around 5ish and aside from some guys working on the loading docks the streets were fairly deserted in this part of town. It was still daylight so I wasn't really scared or anything but I was watchful, had my keys in my hand ready to get in the car. I was in a public parking lot on a corner, about 15 other cars in there and every once in awhile cars would pass on the street. I got in the car and a young guy started walking toward the car. He had his hands in his pockets and I started getting nervous because it was obvious he wanted to ask me something. I started the car and reached for my cell just in case. I cracked the window, after debating whether I should even do that or not. He asked if I could jump his car. I told him I didn't have cables, he said he did, I said I had to get to an appointment and was sorry I couldn't help him.
I've thought about that and feel badly. Had someone else been with me I wouldn't have hesitated. Was I being too cautious? Yes, he was black but even if he were purple I felt uncomfortable one on one with a stranger in a deserted lot.
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