Radio

I remember 30 years ago something my youth pastor told me.  "Whenever I have someone in the car with me the radio is off." 

Now, just yesterday I had one child with me while I went to purchase a suit for a wedding.  In the van while on I-94 I turned the radio on.  From that point on the attention deficit began to subtract from any real connection with the chirp er in back.  Right ear on a four year old, left ear on the Kim Commando show.  Both talking, both pulling on my self centered suspenders.

My wife has affirmed me in the deep thinking arena.  It's the "now" moments that often usurp any reason and logic.  So idio-consciously, instead of realizing if I turned off Kim she won't be offended, I "felt" she would write in her diary that night how many people turned off the radio on her and how her therapist is definitely gonna hear about it on Tuesday.

And there sat Emmy with her little round face and bouncing blue eyes with her mouth running like a motor boat.  For a second I imagined her as a World Cup play by play commentator.  Her sentences made up of one long word.  Words melted togetherwithnopauseorcommaorbreath.  Then I caught on that if I turned her off she might have a dairy entry someday about the dad who was more interested in computer glitches than hitching up with a four year old conversation.