The Lady in the Purple Minivan

It's the kind of Friday I dread most of all. It's the Friday where my work mate and pal, Rosie, who normally stops top pick up doughnuts for the office on Fridays, takes a Friday off and when she comes skulking down the hall looking for some unsuspecting fool to do the infamous doughnut run for her, it seems that everybody else got the head's up and rapidly beat feet to the toilet. Everybody but me and so there I usually sit, a completely stationary and clueless target. Therefore, I had to schlep my way into Dunkin Donuts this morning with the Ringlett (my youngin) in tow so she could get a special treat before school. I hate doing this. The people behind the counter never seem to understand why a full grown woman would come in, refuse to take her eyes off her own feet and in a barely audible manner, mutter out the side of her mouth "OrderforRosieandonedoublechocolateonthesideplease". Cause if I look up at the doughnuts, I'm just flat out screwed and will end up ordering 2 or 3 for myself and scarf 'em before I ever hit the door of my office. Anyway.

You might ask, and rightly so, just what the hell all that has to do with a woman in a purple mini-van, and I'd tell you absolutely nothing except for the fact that it DOES tell you how we ended up where we ended up in the first place and confirms the fact that I tend to babble and make stories much longer than they need be. So we're in the car and we're tooling to her school and she's happily beside me trying to eat a double chocolate doughnut without making a mess because her distracted mother forgot the napkins ,and I happen to look over while we're stopped at a red light and see some wild haired woman in a purple minivan idling next to the passenger side of my car, staring intently INTO my car and of course me being me, I stare back. She meets my eyes, which are covered by my trusty sunglasses, doesn't even flinch and smiles. I tentatively smile back, smack the lock button, make sure I have a clear shot at the emergency button on the OnStar panel, and look forward and carefully, without moving my mouth, say "Doodle, what is that woman looking at" and around a yap full of chocolate, she says "wudwumn?" and now I've drawn her attention to crazy lady, so of course, being 8, she sits there and chews and stares. When I look back, there she is, scribbling on a pad of paper and looking at one of us, danged if I can tell who, and this just continues and yes it's a very long light with all those different little arrows and shit, and finally, I've had about enough of this and I slip my glasses down on my nose, lean forward and give her the look. If you're a mother, you know exactly what I'm talking about. It's the look that says "OK lady just whatthefuck are you doing?" She smiles at me (??), holds up the scribble pad and shows me a sketch of my daughter's eyes. Lindsey hollers "Hey daasme!" (cause she's managed to cram a full 1/4 of the doughnut into her yap) and damned if it isn't. A beautiful little sketch of a child's eyes. Clearly my child's eyes. And I grinned. And she grinned. And Ringlett smiled and waved. And the light turned green.