It’s 8:57 PM on a Sunday night. I chased Adam to bed about an hour ago, which even then was about an hour past his bed time. And just now, just this moment I am realizing that I have been sitting in silence all of this time.
Sweet. Blessed silence.
I never was a person who embraced silence. I always have had music playing in the car, in my room, while I did homework, etc. But now, I find that I can drive the entire 15 minutes to school, if I am alone, and only realize as I pull in the parking lot that I never turned on the radio. Apparently the chattering voices in my head keep me enthralled and entertained to the point where I no longer require a musical accompaniment. Let’s hear it for the voices! They sing! They dance! They take up all the space in my poor befuddled brain.
Or maybe, there’s another reason?
Maybe because while driving my aged mini van this past week, the radio suddenly went out and the display read “low battery,” and believe me, THAT is a silence you will notice. The van eeked out only another 2.2 miles before it shuddered and died on the side of the road.
RIP Battery AND Alternator. You, basically, suck.
But the backseat chorus that provides the backdrop of my life was unruffled by my pleas for silence and continued his choruses of “The COYOTES on the bus go WOOO WOOO WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO allllll through the town,” right up to the point the van stopped.
If a battery could be recharged with preschool singing, we would have sped right on home.
Later in the weekend, after we replaced the battery only and I was assured it was fixed, I drove Adam to Toys R Us Express for a long awaited trip to blow his birthday cash on something breakable and irrelevant only to stop in front of the store and have the battery light come on as we idled.
Do I turn the car off? DO I DARE? Nay. I drove home amidst the most heart wrenching wailing ever heard on the planet. I mean, I drove him TO paradise, we sat outside its very doors, and then drove away.
I’m sure this is something that I will hear about at Thanksgivings to come even when he’s an adult, “Hey mom, remember that time…?”
“Pass the peas please, dear. And be quiet.”