Stop Making Sense

As a mostly-stay-at-home mom I often lack for adult conversation, but if I manage to get my tribe out of the house I can often overhear some good stuff. Through the din of my crying child at toddler aerobics we overheard this from a woman in the back of the room on a cellphone, "you mean I don't have Lyme disease?" She sounded almost disappointed.
At the Mostly All Male whatever they call themselves, I couldn't help overhearing a conversation between the two women sitting in front of C and I. One of the women was telling the other that she was going to be spending the month of July living in her RV - in the WalMart parking lot.
Unlike Lyme disease lady, she did not sound disappointed at all, in fact she sounded as if she was looking forward to it. As if there's no better place to be during the month of July than in the mall parking lot.
At least in her parking lot oasis she'll be able to avoid ticks and insects and other denizens of the great outdoors. Other folks aren't so lucky. Last Monday at Coonamessett Farm I overhead a 12-year-old girl complain that there was a spider on the outdoor play equipment she was using. I know she was 12 because her grandmother chided her for being 12 and climbing on outdoor play equipment meant for toddlers. Her mother was on her way over to intervene (and not on behalf of the spider) when her father, perhaps seeing the dirty look I was throwing their way, pointed out, "well, we are outside."
Outside the realm of reason I'd say.

album: Stop Making Sense • artist: Talking Heads