Years and years ago, I was driving down the freeway with 12 year old Liz and three of her friends, Britney, Alison, and Jessica under a bright blue, sunshiny day. I am sure Roberto was in the car, also, due to the fact he would have been very young, and still completely dependent on me.
Anyway, I am speeding along, heading towards our destination when I mention that when I was a young kid, about their age, I remember driving with my mom and my sis, returning from a mini vacation. I detailed the story explaining that it was a dark evening, aside from the brake and head lights bouncing off all the other traveling cars. Suddenly, not too far ahead of us, a small car tumbled, bursting into flames. We gasped, completely taken back by that strange, unexpected, and horrible, occurrence.
“Oh, my gosh!” one of the girls said, after I finished my story. And then a discussion ensued. Freeway memories of their own.
“I remember once when I was driving with my dad, we saw a mattress fall out the back of a truck,” Alison commented, “right in the path of speeding cars.”
Another discussion picked up. About the consequences of a rather large piece of bedding blocking travelers. What chaos it would cause.
And just as serious, just as concerned, Britney spoke. “Well, once, my dad’s hat flew out of our car!” she exclaimed.
For a second. Just a slight second. Everyone was quiet. Trying to grasp what Britney just said. Then suddenly, we all busted out laughing. Laughing about how funny her comment sounded within the context of the conversation, and even more so about how serious she was.