Happy Trumps Sticky Any Day

Zach and I had to drive to Blue Springs this morning to trade his clarinet for his new-used saxophone that we were getting from Band of Angels and he wanted to get there - now. He was excited to get started on his practicing. I'd just gotten back from food shopping so I said, "Ok, give me 15 minutes to pack out all [20-odd bags] of the groceries and we'll go." I zipped through those bags in record time, gave a couple of instructions to Ty and Dolly, and Zach and I were on our way.

He and I were chatting and joking and having a good little ride. I'd picked up a bottle of soda for each of the four of us at the supermarket as a treat and had taken mine with me and decided, at a stop light, to open it. Grape soda, hadn't had it in a while. Yum! Um, no! The fucker exploded all over me! How does that happen when it's been sitting in the cup holder for ten minutes? I hadn't been shaking it but it was pissed off at me for some reason. DAMN!! And I was having a good day, too; not anymore.

The soda sprayed on the steering wheel, on the switch panel on the door, and down the outside of my seat. It sprayed on my leg and rolled down the inside of my left thigh and met the space where my leg touched the seat. Then it proceeded to river it's way toward the back of my seat and onto my ass. Eeewww, groooooooss! What sprayed all over my hand ran down my wrist and forearm and, unbeknownst to me, puddled in the elbow of my long-sleeved shirt. From there it decided that I hadn't had enough and ran from the elbow of my shirt to the armpit of my shirt where it then water-falled its way down my side and into the waistband of my jeans. REALLY!?

I was a wet mess and only had a few napkins from the glove box to help me 'dry off' which can't possibly be done with soda because it dries to a sticky finish. In a slight attempt to dry myself I rolled down my driver-side window and stuck my hand out toward the front of the van. I was hoping the wind would blow into my sleeve and cause a wind tunnel effect to possibly dry my arm and my shirt enough so I didn't feel so icky. It sort of worked but by the time my arm and shirt got to any semblance of dry Zach and I were at the music store. I was cranky by then, needless to say.

As I stepped out of the van I looked down at my pants which had huge spots of soda on them only anyone looking couldn't tell it was soda because they just looked like big wet spots from mid-thigh to my knee. My inner thigh had a line of wet from my knee to my ass. GROSS!! Good thing my shirt was long in the back, it covered some of the wet view from anyone who might have been behind me. Zach said it didn't look too bad, that nobody could tell. Yeah right! He just wanted to get his sax. :)

In we went. We got his sax and the book he needed, and traded back his clarinet and back out we headed. I wanted to get home to change but Zach just HAD to assemble the sax and try it right there in the van. I let him, I couldn't resist. It took about ten minutes for him to assemble it, play a practice tune or two, and disassemble it, and then he said we could go. He was so excited and happy, and the look of pride on his face was so bright, that I forgot about my wet clothing and sticky van.

We drove home chatting about how he could be another Kenny G and all the cool songs he could learn to play. He really wants to learn the theme from "Roseanne" for me because it's one of my favorite shows. And we figured if he gets good enough he'll get all the solos in school even though there aren't any solos. I said his teacher would create solos just for him because he would be that fabulous. Listening to him talk and the two of us joking together dissolved my cranky mood and the exploding-soda residue was a faded memory for the time being.

Zach reassembled the sax as we pulled into our driveway so he could get out of the van and show it to all his friends, which he did. I got out and went straight upstairs to change my clothes and wipe the soda off of me. That was a must. I meant to go back out and wipe down the inside of the van, too, but I forgot because I was listening to Zach practice. And since we're on the subject, I also forgot to go out this evening and clean my van windows like I keep meaning to do. Grrr!!! Eh, there's always tomorrow, right? Right. As long as my kid is happy and staying positive, my windows and sticky van can wait a little longer to be cleaned. :)

Until next time...peace to all.