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Monday, July 11, 2005

Hot Child In The City

You ever have so much shit going on you just don't know where to start a post? That's where I am today. I told you guys I had more stories from the road trip to share. And I really do. It's just that I have been getting new writing and blogging material faster than I can type. During every phone call or visit with friends and family, my mind is in writing mode. Essentially what that means is, "Anything you say can and will be blogged about in a court of Lois."

My mom has gotten wise to me. If we are on the phone and she hears the click, click, clicking of my nails hitting the keys as fast as she is talking, she'll ask, "What are you doing? Are you typing what I'm saying? Lois! Answer me damn it!" She's so cute when she's angry.

With someone like my mother, there is so much material spewing out of her mouth that I have a file saved on my desktop just for our phone calls.

One day we were talking about the many babies who are dying from being left in hot cars. I read of another case this morning. It seemed to me that this is a new age danger. I just don't remember hearing about these kinds of things years ago. I imagine parents today are more rushed than those of yesteryear. I also think many parents are lazier and more careless than back in the day.

My mom reminded me of a time when she thought one of her kids died from the same. She and my dad were shopping and their defiant child wanted to stay in the car. I guess it was a memory that I set way back into my mind. Maybe because I was the defiant child.

I was tired, hot and cranky, and the last thing I wanted was to go into another store with my parents. I was older than the kids you read about. Old enough for my mom to back hand and make go. I guess she was just "being nice" that day and let me have my way.

When my parents got back to the car I was passed out, eyes open and rolled back, sweat pouring off of me. I can't imagine the feeling they must have had looking at me, trying to wake me. Mom is thankful of course that I turned out fine, virtually unscathed except for that "baked brain" of mine. Yeah, she's really loving. Isn't she?

To save this from being obnoxiously long like my last story, tomorrow, I'll tell you about how history repeats itself.