How often have you been stuck in traffic and looked over only to see your car neighbour picking his or her nose? (you will notice that I make no mention of picking your own nose and getting caught, because no one admits to that dirty nose picking thing). I cannot count the amount of times that I have been getting my groove on in the car to a really great song, only to discover that I have a laughing audience in the car beside me. Why do we all think that because we are in our car we are invisible? I don't know of anyone who does not think that they are invisible in their car. The funny thing is that we all know that no one else's car is invisible, and yet we still stupidly think that our magical car is.
The fact that my car is not like Wonder Woman's invisible plane has been a hard lesson to learn. Add to that false sense of security that fact that the back windows are tinted, therefore giving me more false hope. I cannot count the amount of times I have had the children change in the back of the car in parking lots. I myself have changed back there countless times. To me tinted means that I can see out, but no one can see in (I still can't believe that I have never been invited to join MENSA). It is staggering the amount of people that must wish now that they were blind, or have been blinded by the sight of me in the back of the van. It was not until a family vacation to of all places Sesame Place in Pennsylvania that I learned the truth about tinted windows. We had driven through the night to get to Sesame Place. The kids were all still in their pjs belted in the car when we arrived. I told them to go into the back of the van and change into their bathing suits. I made sure that I put a blanket between the two front seats to block the back off. I mean the back windows are invisible, but the windshield isn't and I didn't want anyone in the crowded parking lot to see my children undressed! The kids were all changed and lined up outside of the van so that I could sunscreen them. Christopher had gone into the back of the van to change into his suit. "Make sure that you have that blanket up so that no one can see you!" I shouted into the car. The parking lot was a flurry of excited families bursting at the seams to get into the park. I had finished sunscreening my last child when I just happened to glance into the back of the van. Waves of cold terror washed over me, as I saw my husband's full frontal through the not so invisible back window. OH GOD! I started to shout through the front door "OH MY GOD! Christopher cover up, I can see your business, OH MY GOD, I can see your business!!!!!!!!! YOU CAN SEE THROUGH THE TINTED WINDOWS!!!!!!!" He staggered out of the van a shade of grey. Lesson learned... tinted windows do not offer invisibility, just shade from the sun.
You would think that after the Sesame Street incident that I would have wised up and realized that vans/ cars offer no invisibility, it didn't. I mean I no longer change in the back of the van, but I am still pretty sure that the invisibility button is somewhere near the cruise control. Recently I rolled out of bed and went through the drive- thru in my pjs. I was paying at the window, when I noticed a person that I know waiting for their breakfast item. Then they waved to me... busted. The girl at the drive through could barely contain her laugher as she passed me my coffee. I was to learn why when I got home. I looked in the mirror, only to discover that one side of my hair was completely flat, and the other side was standing completely on end. As if the hair was not bad enough, the sleep creases in my face had not yet fallen out, it was really not a good look (maybe my MENSA invitation was lost in the mail). Oh dear, everyone at Tim Horton's had seen me!
So there I stood this morning in my pj's, hair standing on end, purse over my arm, keys in hand poised at the front door. My embarrassing car adventures flashed before my eyes. I turned around, got dressed, checked the mirror, wet down my hair and then went out for coffee. Hey listen, if you're talking to the folks at MENSA, could you let them know that I still have not received my invitation?