Blended Goodness

...Baby you can drive my car/And maybe I'll love you....


He catches my keys neatly.

The silver one unlocks The Club TM.

"You're kidding."

Stay in the neighborhood, okay? Don't drive too fast.

"You're kidding, right?" His young face wears a stunned expression.

Your mom said it was okay.

"You're kidding, right?" Still stunned.

Go on, take your friends. Have fun.

"You're kidding, right?"

Not kidding. Don't you want to?

His friend is watching us like a tennis match. "Why, what kind of car is it?"

"Sure, I want to. But- you're not kidding."

The convertible. He knows how much I love it. Go on, get out of here. There's room for all four of you.

Still stunned, he goes, his older brother and his older brother's best friend and his older brother's girlfriend with him. Score one for the little guy.

"She's crazy, " his mom remarks. "I think you need a refill on that daiquiri."

Look, somebody tried to steal it a week ago. I just- you know, everybody should have as much fun as they can while I've still got it. I'm amazed at how many of my friends have never ridden in a convertible. It's so sad. So these guys, they'll- oh, no, I haven't finished this one yet....

She refills me anyway.

Okay. Why is Angel walking around with a shotgun in her hand?

"That's not a shotgun."

Looks like a shotgun. She's wearing one leather glove. She's nine. That is just wrong. It's not a shotgun?

"I think it's a rifle."

Two more daquiris later (for a grand total of four) bosom sticky with saliva and chocolate brownie, toes coated in wax, arm and torso drenched in Diet Coke, I'm ready to limp home.

"I'm going to say something inappropriate."

I've been drinking daiquiris, and YOU'RE going to be inappropriate?

I love inappropriate. What is it?

"Well, since I've recently licked chocolate from your breast, it's kind of a come-down. I'll tell you later.

We ride, topless, watching lightning, at one or two miles below the posted speed. Fortunately, it's a short drive. The rain comes pounding down, washes me clean and cold, just as I've put the top up.

This was to have been a cute little family barbecue. With the kids. You know, tame. Or so I expected.



Guess it depends on who's pouring.


(Drive My Car; The Beatles)