For the past three days, Sully and I have arrived late to his school. Not because we were leaving the house late, but because a certain traffic light on our route skips our turn to go, repetitively. We pull up and wait for the green turn arrow. The light cycles five times. We sit. I let the Mother-bomb drop a couple times. I gripped the steering wheel. I sighed. I debate turning on a red anyway; I consider just weaving into the other lane and going straight through the intersection and then whip a quick U-y. But for some crazy reason, I just sit there and continue to wait, watch the light cycle through while everyone else drives on. For three days, frustrated. It's become such a thing that Sully actually told Eric and Theo about it during dinner last night.
I happen to be a lot like a quote I pinned a while ago that went something like, I never make the same mistake twice. I make it five or six times, you know, just to be sure. This morning I debated taking that route again, but I did. Alas.
We pulled up to the intersection and waited at the red light. Seconds later, first try, the green arrow. I actually squealed out loud and pushed both of my hands up in the air, Oh yeah, oh yeah! From my backseat driver and right-hand dude, "We DID it, Mom!" Air high-fives! Another block down the road in his sugary voice he says, "It's the small things."
Always. Always, it's the small things.
