Dearest one and I went for a drive last night.
to see the countryside that is on the cusp of spring.
We went in his pick up.
When we were newlweds everyone had a pickup.
It was a topic of conversation in his family
to see which couples in the community
sat close together in a pickup.
They'd say the honeymoon must be over
when they started sitting on their own side of the truck
instead of like two peas in a pod.
I thought about this as I got in the truck last night.
Every so often I still sit in the middle,
right next to dearest one
just to confuse people.
Actually, I'd sit there every time
but I have this fear of lap seat belts
and am convinced that if we're in an accident
I will surely be paralyzed for life.
So I choose safety over romance.
Which surely must mean I am no newlywed.
But I never tire of riding in a pickup with dearest one.
It always feels special.
Even when I sit way over on my side of the truck.
The pugs were in fine shape this morning.
Raced outside to do their business.
Raced back in to sit in front of bedroom doors
in hopes that their masters would wake up.
I waited for them to race back up the hallway
and then proceeded to block it off
so dearest one and youngest son wouldn't
get woken up by pitiful whining
outside their doors.
The energizer bunny guessed what I was up to
while I was in the middle of blocking her path
and she tried every which way from Sunday
to get past me.
I thought to myself that it's a sorry state of affairs
to feel such triumph for outwitting a dog
who doesn't even reach halfway up to my knee.