Last week I turned left onto the highway into the closest lane like one is supposed to. There was a motorcycle behind me and when I went to move to the right lane after giving plenty of blinker time, the motorcycle, which had been far enough back for me to move over, gunned it and sped past on the right.
Frustrated, I muttered something about an idiot and let him go by.
Violet, who is four-and-a-half, asked from the back, "Mom, what's an idiot?"
"An idiot is someone who isn't very smart."
So we kept on down the highway and pretty soon she says, "I'm watching that idiot."
Later he turned off the highway and she says, "Where did the idiot go?"
And that was the end.
Except yesterday we pulled up to a stop light and there was a motorcycle beside us, which I noticed was parked just inches behind the car in front of him. Violet pipes up from the back seat, "Is that another idiot?"
"I don't know. But I guess it is possible."
Maybe I'm the idiot, but it makes me laugh. I'm sure her preschool teacher will find it humorous, too, when she hears about it from Violet.
After four kids, ten moves and nearly two decades, we are still blissfully in love (most of the time) and I found myself back in the state I was born and raised in. It has definitely been a journey. In fact, on our 18th anniversary we pulled the last of our stuff up over the pass and into Montana, leaving our surprise love, Idaho, behind. But Montana is a great place. The last best place according to some. And we fully intend to explore as much of it as we can! Join us on our continued adventure through life, love and other stuff that comes with it.