driving with miss kristina

Kristina has been sick, so i did not get around to adding her to the insurance until this morning.  She sorta, kinda, a-little-bit, thought that she might be able to take the car to go a movie downtown with her friends.

Um, no.

As she will be driving the truck —  not the Highlander — and Ed was gone with the truck, she didn’t get her fledgeling drive today.

We went out to the car together so i could drop her off, but i figured she could still get driving practice.  I tossed her the keys, and let her know that, for the most part, the only time she’d be driving my car would be with me in it.

“Aw, man… Well, then you could ride in the back seat this time.”

“Why would i do that?”

“Because you can.  You don’t have to ride in the front seat with me anymore.  I can put my stuff on the front seat, and you can ride in back.”

Um, no.

As the car pulls out onto the main road, i reach up to pop open the cubby that holds my driving glasses.  And naturally, Miss K has something to say about it.

“Hey, why do YOU get to wear the sunglasses?”  With great protest of course.

“Because they are mine.”

“But shouldn’t the one DRIVING get the sunglasses?”

“Just because you are driving doesn’t mean you are entitled to or have a right to wear my sunglasses.”

“I didn’t say it did.”

“If you want to wear my sunglasses, you can ask.”

Long, long pause.  Driving along, in and out of shadows dappled with sunlight.  I can’t stand it anymore. 

“Do you want to wear the sunglasses?”

“No!”  Grin. Snicker.

“You can be a real little shit sometimes, you know?”

“Yeah, that’s why people love me.  I wish it weren’t true,” she says, sounding like she really means it, “but it actually is true.”

I don’t know what to say to this.  We are quiet for a bit, and get chatting about other things.  A mile farther, we crest a hill into full sun.

A tiny bit chagrined, she asks in a smallish voice, “Um, could i wear the sunglasses now?”

And without a word, i hand them right over.

 

 

listening to: the snuffling and small yips of a dreaming dog, tuckered out after chasing a lacrosse ball

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