Well, not yet, at least. It is lunch time. And my bladder is not exactly made from steel. I have a cheap model, made from doilies and dust bunnies. It's basically a colander.
But for now, I'm good and so grateful for my iPhone. How did my mom's generation of SAHMs handle the boredom? I try to minimize my use of the iPhone so Pippa doesn't think it's an appendage but when I'm stuck waiting in a mall parking lot while she naps, my iPhone = sanity. I can read on my kindle app, surf the web, run my virtual shopping errands, and of course, blog.
There's a car nearby with a vanity license plate that reads: ITIPSZ. What does that mean??? Aaahhhh it's driving me crazy. I think it means "I'm tipsy" but that seems like a really dumb thing to put on a license plate. Doesn't that count as a confession to drunk driving?
ITIPSZ probably is shorthand for something really obvious that my mommy brain can't handle. I am getting plenty of sleep these days (thanks, Roo) but a huge chunk of my brain is devoted to my girl's well being. Yesterday, I stopped at my local Starbucks drive thru while Roo napped. She of course woke and started wailing as I was paying. Distracted, I started to drive away without my drink. Fortunately the barista reacted quickly and shouted for me to wait, but I still had to do the walk of shame back to the window to fetch my drink.
If you have an indecipherable vanity plate, you should have the decency to post an explanation on a bumper sticker. Otherwise any upstanding citizen should be able to have your lame license plate, and any car attached to said plate, towed to another state.
The classical station is playing Copland. I dated a guy in college who sneered at Copland for dumbing down music. He also hated the movie Fantasia for the same reason. Well, I don't care if Copland Hater is right or not. Maybe Copland is "too accessible" or "direct" but I love his compositions. They make me feel like I'm on an adventure. Right now, my body is in a parked car at the mall but my soul is exploring the frontier. I love you, Mr. Copland! (And I hate you, ITIPSZ.)