Car talk

Here's how it goes every morning: G and Lauren get up by 5, leave for seminary (early morning religious class for high schoolers) at 5:30.  G drops her off at 6 and goes on in to work.  Because she's the only one at seminary who attends her high school, I leave at 6:30 and go pick her up and take her to school, arriving home around 7:20.  (Are you with me?  Is this the most exciting paragraph you've ever read?)

Now I'm no early bird. But in spite of the crack-of-dawnness, that hour or so is one of my favorites in the day. The sunrise is usually stunning. And it's great chat time with my eldest child, just the two of us (as long as I'm not driving to seminary and all in a dither about punctuality).  Don't you love how driving in a car opens up kids to all kinds of topics and reflections? 

In addition to deepest thoughts and shallowest observations, we share music. Today Journey's Don't Stop Believing came on, a tune which always brings up memories of jr. high afternoon dances and the confusion about whether it was a slow song or a fast one.  We were singing along and I belted out the words.

"Mom, those aren't the right lyrics."

"What?! I think I know my own era songs, thankyouverymuch."

"Mom, really, listen when that line comes up again."

I did. 

She was right.

It's not "born and raised and self-destroyed" which is how I've been singing it. All. These. Years. Apparently (as I'm sure you all know) it's "born and raised in South Detroit." Whatever. I think my lyrics make more sense.  And more universal, for those of us non-Michiganites.

Turnabout is fair play, though; Lauren was just getting me back from this time.  

. . .

grateful for: the boost I feel after exercising, our 8 p.m. nightly gathering as a family, and keeping in touch with longtime friends (just had a great phone chat with my college roommate this afternoon)