Who Me?

So you see a woman driving in a car.  She looks directly at you and then waves frantically.  You look around to see if she is really waving to you.  She keeps waving and smiling.  “Who me?” you gesture.  She then starts blowing you kisses.

“Dang Crazy Woman! Why is this crazy woman blowing me kisses and waving at me!”

Race nor gender affects this woman.  Young or old.  She does this daily.  She passes by Georgia State Students and blows kisses.  She passes the Fulton County Courts and she waves to men and women.

Some ignore her.  Some look try to figure out who she is talking to (must not be them).  Some wave back.  No one blows kisses back.   That is ok.  The woman is happy and smiling. 

Who is this woman?  The woman is me. 

The conversations that Grant and I had coming home from school has been replaced.  Miles and I amuse ourselves.  Miles doesn’t talk much.  He does blow kisses and he waves all the time. 

The people on the sidewalks think I am waving and blowing kisses to them.  I am not.  I am waving in my rearview mirror which reflects off of the mirror that is hung on my back seat that shows me the image of my baby waving back to me.   I know that I am misunderstood daily when I start waving to Miles or blowing him kisses.  No one can see that he is in the back seat facing the rear.  I don’t care.  It is worth to have him giggle and respond and send me those sweet kisses through the reflections!

 

I don’t care who thinks I am crazy!  This smile is pure addiction!