Yesterday, in a very cool floating encounter (It involved a shrill, irate, and fast-moving Co-op cashier, the so-stylin' driver of a PT Cruiser, and a displaced Vancouverite) a twenty-something year old young man told me he wished I was his mom.
Seriously?
I'm not even forty.
And he wishes I was his mother? Not, possibly, his sister? Or a favorite cousin? Nuh uh.
These floating encounters address all sorts of issues, let me tell you. I'll let you know if I have even a scrap of pride left when this strange river ride is over.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go shine my walker and pop my heart medicine.
*sigh*
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