Today, our school hosted a dad’s breakfast where school dads bring their kiddos in to school, have breakfast with them, and interact with them. The breakfast started at 6:45 AM. Therefore, by 6:15 this morning, my entire family had vacated our home. And I was left alone. This was me:
I primped and prepped myself for the day without any interruption. I left the house calmly, with a hot cup of coffee, with all my belongings intact, and with a smile on my face.
So, yes, Mr. Farm Tractor, you may pull out in front of me with your UFO-esque yellow flashers and mud bespattered plow blades. And you may go 7 MPH in a 45 MPH zone. Because I am alone. Because no child yowls behind me that her Nutrigrain bar is mixed berry instead of strawberry. Because no dispute erupts over the exact dividing line of personal seat space. Because the words "I have to pee. Bad." do not waft to me from the back seat. Because I have music playing that I myself have selected. And because I am not late for a 7:20 meeting.
I am placidly driving to work. Confident and composed. For I am alone.
I know things will be different tomorrow. If you pull out in front of me tomorrow, I may in fact hit you or honk at you or swerve around you (with perhaps an expletive slipping from my lips aimed in your general direction). I will not be composed. For tomorrow I will not be alone.
But for today I will smile and revel in my aloneness.