You know that when you call running shoes sneakers that you are sort of a fake runner.
You know that when you give them your phone number at the Running Room and they say the last time you bought running shoes was in 2005 that you are pretty much due for a new pair.
You know that when they say take your shoes off and show us how you run in the middle of the store, you feel like they have said ‘take your clothes off and show us how you run’ . Everyone looking. All eyes on whether you pronate. So intimate.
You know that when they say -with a weird look on their faces-you have really really really small feet for your size, they are really trying to say “Wow you are amazing, beautiful and talented and in perfect condition”
I know we are supposed to be open to having several or even dozens or more of these in a long and happy life but the other day I found one really was the one.
On the way back from a family dinner on Monday night I was alone with my eldest- who has mere days left on planet mom & me- a few weeks left at school, a flurry of 3 days of packing and off to work at camp for the summer and then home for 4 days and then off to Uni.
She was beside me in the car. We were both having a tender night.
I grabbed her hand and started to tell her about how “the day you were born was the happiest day of my life. All I ever wanted was a chubby baby girl. You were an angel from day one. You have been perfect- absolutely the best thing that ever happened to me. You taught me how to be a mom”
We both cried for 15 blocks
I spotted a table at the curb. A cute little outdoor table someone had put out to garbage.
Now we are both at the curb craughing (that is crying and laughing if you aren’t female) and putting the little table in our car
A little garbage picking does wonders for your mood.