In the spotlight

I can't find my sunglasses. Two pairs of them.
I can't find a lot of things anymore -- like my toothbrush and my sanity. I have two toddlers who have different ideas about where things should live than I do.
I'm not sure about my sanity, but I really miss my sunglasses.
As I was driving down the highway without them, tears streaming down my face from the glare of the sun and peaking through a slit in my fingers, hoping that would help, I realized sunglasses were just one of those things I couldn't live without.
So, for two days I drove around wearing an old pair of pinkish/purple Whinnie the Pooh sunglasses with a missing earpiece.
Katie was torn between delight and jealousy when she saw mama in her sunglasses.
Mama was torn between embarrassment and amusement. Embarrassment won out, and I was careful to wear them only when driving and not in front of any people.
But your mind wanders. I realized I forgot to take them off when going through the Burger King drive-thru and noticed the cook had been called out of the kitchen to gawk at me.
I was actually flattered until I looked in the rear-view mirror and the Pooh decal looked right back at me from the crooked lens of the too-small glasses.
I've bought new sunglasses, but I stored Katie's in the glove compartment for "just in case."
Being in public with my girls usually brings smiles, but there are times when people step to the side to give the crazy woman more room.
My girls always make me forget I'm in public.
When we're in the car, I always tilt my rear view mirror down to see them and we get down to some serious playing (something that ends now that I've made that fact public to the boys in blue).
Anyway, drive time is fun time. I picked the girls up from the baby-sitter's and we stopped to coax some newborn lambs to the fence. We'd get them right there when Katie would yell "hi sheep!" and scare them off again.
That prompted a version of "Baa Baa Black Sheep."
Katie's working on the appropriate fingers to go with each number, so that led to counting.
So, I'm driving down the road singing, dancing and counting on my fingers to show Katie. I get to a stop light and hear a car honk. I looked up. The light was still red, so I wasn't holding anyone up. We continued singing, this time ABCs, with mama doing all the letters she could remember in sign language and clapping for Katie each time we finished a song.
A horn honked again. I adjusted the mirror and saw dad sitting behind me. I waved and headed toward his house. It was where I was going anyway.
Evidently, he had been behind me since we finished our sheep viewing and was greatly amused at the show I was putting on for God and everybody (you have to remember, you can't really see the girls when they're in the car, so I looks like performing for an audience of one).
I, on the other hand, managed to drive about two miles without a clue. And trust me, Dad's not real subtle about getting someone's attention when he wants it.
It made me wonder how many people stay far behind the crazy lady when they're driving.
I was again torn between embarrassment and amusement. Amusement won out. It always does with my children.
It's funny how the attention shifts between my daughters (cause they're so cute) and me (cause I'm a little weird).
It's all good, we all love the attention.
It's a good thing I got new sunglasses. While I was at it, I got Katie and Nikki new pairs, too.
All stars need them.

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