About 1993. And 1981.

On Tuesday, while I was driving my mom to her day care, I thought, "It feels like all I do is drive around my town. All day." To pick up my mom, to drop her off, to the grocery store, back home, to Marley's school, to dance class, to the library. It doesn't really matter. And then I thought about how I've driven around this town for YEARS. Like, since I got my license. And so then, I wondered how much my life has really changed since I was sixteen. As in, I obviously am a mother and a wife now, but I'm still just driving around the Home of the Hawks and, a few remodels aside, picking up groceries in the same place where I once rode in the carriage myself.

And then I thought, what would I do if I could be sixteen again? Not living my life over again; I don't want to go there. I mean, if I could be sixteen for one day, what would I do? And my response was instantaneous: I WOULD RUN. For God's sake. I would go for something like a two-hour jog because I could. I would revel in a sixteen-year-old body that just wouldn't get tired. And I'd play field hockey, and I'd play basketball, and whether it was practice or a game I would be crazy aggressive and throw myself all around the field or court for loose balls because my energy would be LIMITLESS! I wouldn't have to take care of anyone else except MYSELF! AARRRGGHHH!

Ahem. The other thing I would do is drive around the Home of the Hawks in my sweet, sweet 1981 Chevrolet Citation, known to those who loved her and were perhaps lucky enough to ride in her as: Bess. This picture is not actually Bess, but after a quick search online, including the pure gold of www.chevycitationforever.net, I found a very close approximation. It's just missing the duct tape over the front headlight.

Today, while I was thinking about writing this post, and therefore remembering Bess, I imagined myself in a few years, finding Bess and a miraculous discretionary income to fix her up. I would install two sweet booster seats in the back and give Marley and Rudy a taste of the Good Life. We would toot around singing something loudly, like "Don't Bite Your Friends," from Yo Gabba Gabba!, or more appropriately, Montell Jordan's "This Is How We Do It." And now I'm inspired to teach Marley that one pronto.