It is our second date.

Our first date after our coffee date. So, in my mind, this is our first real date. I am wearing my favorite gray Calvin Klein dress. It’s just short enough, but not too short and hits mid thigh. To keep off the Fall chill I’m wearing my light brown suede jacket and–because I can–my pre-Benjamin stiletto booties.

I am proud of myself for picking out an outfit so quickly, considering how daunting it had been to get dressed before the coffee date.

He texts me that he is parked around the corner, behind the bushes, where I know Benjamin can’t spot him. I kiss Benjamin good-bye, wish the sitter good luck and dash out the door. Per the sound and logical advice of my girlfriends, we have waited four days to see each other again. But, it has felt like weeks. Typically four days would be nothing for me, a splash in the water, nothing. But on each night we’ve spend hours on the phone talking and each night, I’ve woken up at 3:00 or 4:00 AM wide awake with anticipation.

“This is nuts,” I tell myself every morning when I wake up, not even tired.

“This is crazy, isn’t is?” says Meg Ryan.

“No, that’s what’s so crazy about it,” says Rosie.

That line from Sleepless in Seattle makes sense now and every obnoxious jilted love song on the radio doesn’t. What are those people even wasting their time on? It should just make sense from the start and always.

One night I tell him, “I haven’t talked to a boy on the phone for this long since middle school.”

He laughs. I love his laugh and notice that I can produce it easily. But then I wonder, does he talk to all of the girls this much? When I ask him this he pauses, taken aback, and says, “No. I don’t talk to all of the girls this much.”

Suddenly, I feel ashamed for asking in such an accusatory way and realize that was my baggage speaking for me. I make a mental note and in the future, when the time is right, I apologize to him. His response is completely accepting, “Sweetheart, that’s okay – you have every right to be cautious, you’ve been hurt before. You don’t owe me any apologies.” He accepts me, baggage and all.

In this moment as I’m walking and not trying to run, as I’m trying to look cool and calm and not utterly petrified as I turn the corner into the bushes, I try to forget about my baggage. When I see his face, it all melts away. My nerves, my anxiety. The only thing left is a peaceful contentment.

“Hi,” he says with a smile before he scoops me up into a hug, “How are you?”

“Better now,” I say.

He pulls the door open for me. I thank him quietly, feeling awkward, as I always have when men show me chivalry. When we start driving I look down at my hands and they’re shaking in my lap. The nerves are back.

“I’m sorry,” I say, “but I’m so nervous right now. I go out on a lot of dates. This is not like me, at all.”

“Me, too!” he says, “I’ve been totally nervous all day. And no, I’m not normally like this with all the girls.”

We laugh and then I snap my head into the back seat. Something has caught my eye. Something pink. With a full view, I see it’s the pink arm of a car booster seat. And then I see the other blue seat on the other side. Two car seats. Empty, of course, but I can imagine them there while he’s driving. Their awesome dad with his great big smile and his great big laugh and his great big heart.

Finally on the other side of the dating single parent spectrum, I blurt out, “Now, that is hot.”

He laughs again and I say, “No, really, you have no idea.”

“Oh, I definitely do.”

—–

On another night three months later, we were still laughing just like we were on that first, second date…  and taking goofy pictures.

My caption for this one is “My big, giant New Year’s gnome.”

Still haven’t decided on a name for him, but your feedback is simmering and baking. Thank you for that and for sticking with my totally boring blog, as it has become a love nest. But, hooray for love and damn the torpedoes.

Related posts:

1. One side effect of being a dating single mama…my baby is trying to make out with me.
2. My dark side
3. The other side

Just thought you would all like to see this mysterious guy who has me completely smitten.

And he definitely knows how to make me laugh…

We are completely aware of how obnoxious we are to the outside world, but we can’t help this. It is what it is.

Some things the picture won’t show you: the sound of his laugh, which comes so easily and reminds me exactly of my father’s, the way he walks with a confidence that comes from surviving the shit storm life has thrown at him, the way he looks at his children and holds them in his arms like feathers, the way he has done everything in his power to keep them happy, healthy and thriving and my heart bursting with happiness because we have finally found each other.

P.S.

We were on the CTA in Chicago, heading to Lincoln Park to hear the Barr Brothers. We had a time and the show was spectacular. Listen.

P.P.S

I am sorry if I have lost some of you as readers due to taking my break. While it was the right thing to do for us, it was not necessarily the right reaction. For that, I am truly sorry.

Related posts:

1. Hold up
2. Out with the old

Eight days of semi-single momdom left.

I know I’m not entirely a single mom anymore, having a man around and all. A deeply considerate and helpful man at that. But still, in eight days that door will be permanently shut, right now it’s swinging back and forth a bit and there’s a crack of light shining through.

In eight days we’ll be officially moving on to our lives with a John Bear and a Murphy Dog in the picture. And what could be finer?

Dreams do come true.

But this is just one of the dreams I had. The first was to escape my first marriage, the second to recover financially and emotionally and the third was to find satisfaction and happiness solo, without a man around at all.

Between packing and working John and I are stealing moments to ourselves and as the move draws closer and closer, I’m feeling more and more – dare I say it – butterflies in my stomach. I feel like I’m more in love with him now than I ever have been at any other time in our relationship. This pragmatic, lead weight love just grows on you – better and better as you pass each milestone together, especially the stressful and harrowing ones that have you both at your worst and your best in simultaneous moments.

Anyhow.

Happiness abounds right now and I have to admit, I’m not quite sure what to make of this. I owe most of the credit to John Bear for leading the way and sticking with me even when I tried my hardest to push him away.

When I did he would say, “I’m not sure that you know what love means, but I’m going to show you.” Then he would add, “And, I’m not going anywhere.”

At first I reacted to these statements with fear, shutting down and closing him off and out. But then, slowly but surely, my reaction of fear turned into acceptance. I let him happen. I let us happen.

He was right. I didn’t know what love was, but now I do. And oh my gosh, is it worth the growing pains it took to get here.

I may be a bit quiet over the next few weeks during this move. But I’ll be posting lots of pictures and fun from our chaos. In the meantime and make sure you enter to win a free t-shirt from Homage.

Related posts:

1. Single Mama Signing Off (for a few days)
2. Whispers
3. Something Missing

If you would have asked me one year ago if I’d a) fall in love with a man or b) actually be caught dead on a golf course, or in this case a driving range; I would have clocked you silly on both counts.

But you would have been right.

Exhibit a)

The man, the myth, the John Bear – sporting his new long locks, dashing aviator glasses and, as always, his easy, contagious laugh.

Lead weights, baby. Absolutely astounding.

Exhibit b)

Me, thanks to Exhibit a, golfing and yes – enjoying it.

Looks like I’m holding a baseball bat, although I wouldn’t know how to hold one of those either.

And then my attempt at a perfect golfer follow through.

Conclusion

[Although, if you must know the truth, John and I totally ditched Georgia by Day 3 and fled back up North to Asheville, North Carolina. Pictures in my Spring Gallery.]

P.S.

Thanks to all of you who snapped up the first New Leaf charm bracelets and necklaces, the first batch will be mailed out this week. There are about a dozen of each remaining in this limited edition pure sterling batch. Shop here. Or, stay tuned for the more affordable bronze new leaf necklaces coming back in a few weeks now! Exciting.

Related posts:

1. They’re here…
2. Crunches and Necklaces
3. Big Things

On New Year’s Eve, John Bear’s little brother brought his girlfriend along from New York City.

The two are absolutely smitten with each other and I couldn’t help but take picture after picture of them.

Maybe because they’re so damn cute together

or maybe because I could picture them just like this walking down a busy street in New York City.

Or maybe I wanted to capture, through a lens, what it feels like to be that young and that ready to dive head first into whatever comes.

because for them, the rest of the world doesn’t really exist right now.

And that is so incredibly awesome.

I’m definitely a fan of love now. It’s slightly obnoxious.

Or maybe it’s just these brothers.

Trouble.

They’re both trouble. And totally taken.

[And that's Mr. Papa Bear himself to the right of John there. All of my pictures from our trip to Chicago and New Year's are here.]

If you’re really looking for romantic inspiration check out the latest creation from my beautiful friend Morgan – Bluegrass Romance - she’s challenging herself to weekly missions of adventure and romance throughout 2010. As if moving across the country to marry your true love as a single mama wasn’t enough! Morgan rocks.

—-

Your entries to my New Leaf, New Year contest have been out of this world. I’m announcing the winner very soon.

Related posts:

1. Love vs. Lust
2. Single Moms and Love
3. Lots of love to go around.

A few weeks ago I got an e-mail inviting me to speak to four AP Lit classes.

The teacher, one Mr. David Rickert, had been turned onto my blog by his wife and thought my philosophies on dating and love could serve as a great guide for his students in conjunction with the books they are reading this semester. They’re also all about to enter college, and naturally like any caring teacher, he is concerned for the fate of their little hearts.

I immediately responded with, “Absolutely.”

The chance of giving 18 year olds the advice I so sorely needed back then was too hard to pass up.  So today I sat my butt down on that teeny tiny stool and started talking. And I didn’t stop until four hours and at least 60 kids later.  Somewhere in the middle of hour three everything blurred together and I couldn’t remember if I was talking about man shopping, dating yourself or why you should never marry someone for their green card.

Right here I was probably telling them that true love was nothing like what they’d seen in those stupid vampire movies and that television has completely warped their sense of romantic reality.

And here I think I was telling them to rent babies for a day or two before deciding to marry someone.

Do newly weds even do that? Do they borrow babies for a day? Or maybe for two days? Why would you marry someone who you hadn’t at least spent 24 hours with in the company of a toddler or better yet, a newborn? To us single moms that idea is absolutely insane. I could go on and on and on. But I’ll let you guys have fun with that one in the comment section.

Instead let me share the one story that kept coming back and one I managed to tell consistently to each class. The story about John Bear and the scrambled eggs. Last weekend when I went to Michigan for Katie’s wedding I told John to make Benjamin scrambled eggs for breakfast because we were out of milk.

First it should be noted that John Bear is not, or maybe I should say was not, the best cook or cleaner. Once I actually spotted him spraying Windex on a wooden floor. Yeah. Anyway. I thought scrambled eggs would be an easy substitute for cereal but on while I was driving I got a frantic call from him “The scrambled eggs. They’re not right. I messed something up, they’re, they’re…”

“Like an omelet?” I asked.

“Yes! Like an omelet! What did I do? I’m looking up the recipe online, I’m trying to figure it out.”

“YOU’RE WHAT?”

“I’m looking it up online, how to make scrambled eggs.”

“OH MY GOD. You’re kidding me.”

“Can you please not yell at me right now, I am trying to figure this out and that’s not helping.”

“I know, I’m sorry but it’s like you’re asking me how to boil water. You put them in the pan and then you scramble them. You know, you move them around, you kind of stir them but more like scoop them.”

I hung up the phone with a huge sigh. Shaking my head I started wondering how I could possibly marry a man who didn’t know how to make scrambled eggs. Then, while envisioning myself cooking every meal for the rest of my life I started cursing myself for losing my temper. Why was I so mean just then? I imagined he would be upset all day, that there would be this awkward thing hanging in the air but then five minutes later the phone rang. It was John Bear.

“So? How did it go?” I asked.

“I am the MASTER OF SCRAMBLED EGGS!!” He shouted this into the phone like a guy who had just won a one-on-one match with his toughest competitor. I think I actually heard him jumping up and down.

I started laughing and then we were both laughing. After the laughing I apologized for snapping and then everything was fine. Our days went on and now, just a few weeks later it’s a hilarious story. The point is that John Bear may not know how to cook and clean like a pro but he is completely willing to learn.

He treats issues in life and in our relationship just like those scrambled eggs – he figures them out and doesn’t give up until he has. And that is what young women and men should look for in each other… how do they work through issues, challenges and how do they communicate their insecurities with you when something goes wrong. How do they bounce back?

It’s all about the scrambled eggs. Seriously. All of you happily married people know what I’m talking about, don’t you?

—–

Some side notes on what I would tell my 18 year old self…

Love doesn’t hurt.

Love doesn’t dump you.

Love doesn’t harbor ill will or bad feelings.

Love doesn’t ask anything of you.

Love is as calm as a still pond and love is a warm, warm blanket.

Do you feel this way about yourself?

That’s step one.

——

If you could travel back in time, what would you tell your 18 year old self?

Leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win a copy of Ms. Single Mama Uncensored. I am giving away three copies… those of you who left comments on Facebook and Twitter today are already entered. And thank you so much, I read the answers out loud to the class and they were definitely effective.

Related posts:

1. Man things (and a video)
2. Pillow Talk
3. The Trip Story, Part 4

When I first started dating John Bear his dog drove me crazy.

Every time I would come over Murphy would jump on me, scratching my bare legs with his thick doggy claws and if he wasn’t jumping he was panting and staring at me, all the while emitting a subtle doggy smell. When I put two and two together and realized that John let Murphy sleep up in his bed with him I freaked out, “Gross! That’s just so disgusting.”

“Why? He’s just a dog. He doesn’t even shed and he’s hypo allergenic.”

“Hypo allergenic? A dog can be hypo allergenic? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“He’s not that bad, you just have to get used to him. I promise. And you would never let a dog sleep in the bed with you?”

“No,” I snapped, “Never ever.”

That was five months ago. Now Murphy spends every single day at my place while John goes into his office. The little white fur ball follows me everywhere and we even cuddle – on couches, on beds, anywhere we can. Benjamin adores Murphy. The two wrestle, chase each other and even play hide and seek. I just can’t imagine our life without that damn dog and I am completely smitten.

One day we were sitting outside of the coffee shop and a few older ladies walked by (they always love Murphy).

“How long have you had him?” they asked.

“Well, he’s actually my boyfriend’s but I am just in love with him.”

“And the boyfriend too, you love him too right?”

“Oh yes, absolutely.”

“Good, because that would be kind of awkward if you didn’t.”

I love old ladies. They’re so blunt and honest, they speak my language. After they walked off I sat there with Murphy realizing just how far I’ve come in five months. I went from barely believing in love to feeling it in every moment. I am surrounded by love from John, Benjamin and yes, little Murphy. And to be honest, I am not sure who fell in love with who first but now there are the four of us… all in love with each other.

A happy foursome.

I’m telling you this story because I think it’s amazing how much we can change when slowly introduced to something new by someone we love. Slowly being the key. So there’s something else I used to hate with a passion, aside from dogs, and it was football. Back in the day someone at my old job gave me tickets to an Ohio State game and I left them in my mailbox at work, completely forgot about them. They went unused and I got a bit of a lecture from my co-worker, “If you’re not going to use them, at least give them away. Don’t leave them sitting there for everyone to see on Monday morning.”

Yeah. Football. Not really a fan.

But John Bear loves it, which means Benjamin loves it…

The other day Benjamin was even talking about some guy named Jerry Rice (is that right).

I don’t even know. Knowing that John Bear loves football and knowing that it can’t be easy dating me, I chose the Football mission this month for the Fiesta Movement.

Here’s the video.

And a picture of that damn dog because I’m so in love… can’t help it!

Related posts:

1. Video: Cowboy Benjamin thwarts Mommy.
2. Husband Day Care Video
3. The Ms. Single Mama Video! (Yeah, I’m a dork.)

“Are those poop bags in your pockets again?” I see the top of a bright blue plastic bag sticking out of his shorts.

“I always come prepared,” he says. Always is right. John Bear is seldom without a poop bag or two sticking out of his cargo short pockets. I’m always telling him to stick them back in while teasing him profusely for being such a dork. “Stop laughing,” he adds, “one day I’ll have our kid’s diapers stuffed in here.”

Gulp.

Visions of three more years of diapers are flashing through my mind and I give him one of my looks.

“What? No? Is that a bad thing?” He asks.

“No,” I relax my eyebrows and smile, “It’s fine. Really fine actually.”

My thoughts don’t even venture where they typically would with the typical men of my past. Instead they stay safely seated in the upright position, ready and willing to believe that happiness does not necessarily have an expiration date.

But that doesn’t mean there won’t be a ton of shit to clean up along the way.

—-

We went to a Browns game this weekend for Fiesta Movement Mission #5. Pictures will be posted as soon as I get some sleep and just a little bit of time.

xoxo

No related posts.

“If everything works out with John, Benjamin won’t know a time when he wasn’t around.”

As my therapist’s words sink in the last three years of my life flash through my mind; from the beginning when I packed everything up and moved into my mother’s, to the quiet nights at her house in the woods wondering and wishing myself away and back to some semblance of independence and then to the moment when Benjamin and I stepped into our own sweet, little apartment – ready to begin our new life.

What followed is all here, on this blog in my eBook, or safe in my mind.

I sit on her couch, staring off into a painting on the wall as I try to grasp this idea of him not remembering anything before John Bear. The memories wash over me – the adventures big and small – like the time we were yelled at by a hair salon owner or the countless grocery store trips that typically ended in knock down drag out tantrums. Then there were the big adventures like trips to find Joshua Trees

or deep forests and mountain coves in Vancouver.

And smaller adventures like hours of puddle jumping for no reason

or sweating it out on a hot summer day in August to hear our future president, a man also raised by a single mom, speak to us from about twenty feet away.

or chasing bunnies with Sydney.

Now, looking back, it is these moments – the moments when I forced myself out of the house with him, braving the book store, the library, the festivals, the camping trips and the road trips all by myself, trying to fill the time – that are the best memories I have of the two of us.

Memories of the moments when we both forgot where we were or when we just took our time

because we didn’t have anywhere else to be.

“So they’ll all be gone? He won’t remember a thing?” I ask my therapist or, as I fondly call her, Wonder Woman. She’s helping me to straighten out my trust issues and to figure out why, in the past, I had a pattern of choosing bad boys dysfunctional men.

“The emotions we all feel before the age of three are imprinted on our minds forever, but the actual memories are harder to keep so, no, he probably won’t remember any time that John wasn’t there. To Benjamin, he will have always been around.”

I am trying to see it as I typically would, to draw a clear line – a before and after, a then and now – but to me, meeting John and almost sensing that he was about to surface, was all part of one big transition for both Benjamin and I. Bringing John and Murphy into our lives is another family adventure but this time, we’re playing for keeps and we’re both falling.

Fortunately John is right there with us, helping us paddle the boat and proving his love through his actions over and over again. And even though part of me used to identify myself with being single, the fact is that, single or not I am still me and Benjamin is still Benjamin.

We’re just being introduced to some new things

and I am seeing expressions on his face and witnessing feelings I didn’t know he had in him

They seem so obvious now. A game, cracker jacks, a helmet filled with ice cream.

Love from a man who knows how to love.

“That’s okay,” I tell Wonder Woman, “I am happy and Benjamin is happy, that’s exactly what I’ve wanted all along. We’re just growing, making room for even more love – it doesn’t replace the love that already existed.” But that doesn’t mean I won’t be sneaking Benjamin off for a few more solo adventures or two.

In fact, I’ve been savoring our moments alone even more now. Not that we don’t like having John Bear around – we adore him (and so does Wonder Woman, by the way) – but this entire experience, of growing your heart and your family at the same time is something you need to take slowly. And while things have been speeding up as of late, while there is more and more talk of what is coming and as magnificent as it all sounds, it’s not perfect. Nothing is ever perfect. But, I can tell you, it’s a hell of a lot easier when you have a good, strong man there to catch you – a man who you know would never do or say anything to hurt you.

As for the imperfections, there are all kinds of things coming into play. My ex, for example, is becoming more and more agitated by Benjamin’s affectionate talk of this “John Bear.” We are also trying to learn how to co-parent… all other stories for another day, but for now I have a prize to give away.

[UPDATE: Just added photos from the baseball game to the bottom of my Recently Photo Album]

Single Mom Adventure Prize Pack

I don’t know why but I keep getting contacted by companies offering prizes too good to resist… maybe they’ll slow up soon enough but until then, let’s all have some fun and ride the contest wave, shall we? This one is particularly awesome…

Prize #1: A Shutterfly Photo Book

I spent most of this afternoon sorting through old pictures of Benjamin. I’m collecting them all to add to my set of Shutterfly photo books. The company contacted me asking if I’d be interested in some free samples (full disclosure). I said, “Sure, but only if my readers can have some too.” And guess what? They did. I have a few copies to give away!

I don’t know about you but I’m in love with photo print books because the pictures aren’t going to fade, get lost, separated from the album, etc. And Shutterfly books are surprising affordable and they have a big sale going on right now too. (They didn’t tell me to say that, by the way. No one ever tells me to say anything about their product because if they did I’d tell to go bug off).

Prize #2: A copy of Sole Mate by Lauren Mackler

I was reading Sole Mate: Mastering the Art of Aloneness when I met John. The author, a single mother, who had to move back to the U.S. from Europe with her two grown children after her marriage fell apart, is truly inspiring. I love this book and highly recommend it to everyone, even those of us in happy relationships.

How to enter:

The contest is open until Monday, September 14th. Just leave a comment telling me about one of your favorite adventures as a single mom and consider yourself entered.

Related posts:

1. My Kick Ass Christmas Contest!
2. Trippin’, Part 1

Within just a few weeks of dating, John Bear had bought Benjamin a Transformer, saying “I couldn’t help it. I hope it’s okay. I just can’t believe he doesn’t have one.”

And why would he? I’m a chick (in case you hadn’t noticed) and now that Benjamin is becoming a boy I’m realizing I don’t have a clue about boy stuff. His father is French Canadian and aside from the Smurfs, I don’t think we watched the same cartoons. In fact, I’m fairly certain his dad didn’t watch any cartoons at all, which had nothing to do with his Quebecness and almost everything to do with his mother.

Nervous Benjamin’s head would explode at actually receiving a gift from a man, I made John Bear keep the new Transformer and its accompanying DVD hidden in his car for another few weeks. I would move the little gift bag into the back seat on date night, leaving it there and wondering just what to do with the thing. The only solution would be to just give it to him and find out. Sometimes parenting is a big ball of trial and error, the only thing you can hope for is that the errors don’t permanently mess up your kid and that, as John Bear’s father says “they come to your funeral.”

After I thought Benjamin could handle the spoilage I let John give him the present. When he opened it Benjamin squealed and then laughed hysterically when the thing transformed into a robot and he has yet to let the car out of his sight.

It goes everywhere with him, constantly in the cusp of his little hand. He’s learned how to do everything, even ride his bike, one handed to account for the car. Benjamin’s Transformer collection doubled last weekend when John Bear (who Benjamin now believes is the master of the robot universe) pulled these guys out of his mother’s basement. Two new freaky little robot guys to bring home.

Our new roommates, now I think there are six or so, have crushed Thomas the Tank and even Elmo. Even Woody and Buzz Lightyear haven’t moved. And I’ve become all too aware of the fact that apparently I’m not the only one who has been lacking a man’s attention and affection.

We had just woken up when I took that picture, so to be fair to John here’s a picture he took of me drinking out of a doggy mug.

“Ha. You’re drinking out of a doggy mug.”

“Yes. I am. I am drinking out of a mug with dogs on it, now buzz off silly man and let me finish my coffee.” Now you all know what I look like at the crack of dawn with a doggy mug shoved in my face. I was giving my e-mail a once over after neglecting my virtual world for most of the 4th of July weekend. After doggy coffee and Transformer play time we went to breakfast with John’s parents, who have been completely understanding of my reluctance to bring Benjamin too close, too soon.

John had invited us up to his uncle Marc’s 4th of July cookout weeks in advance but I just couldn’t make up my mind. I went back and forth and then finally decided that morning that we should just go. I was hesitating out of worry, again of the what the unkown would bring. The biggest one being, would spending an entire weekend with John and his family confuse the hell out of Benjamin and in turn, send me into freak out mode. But on that beautiful Saturday morning Benjamin had just finished up his pancakes and me the laundry when I realized my decision was being made out of fear. I called John, “have you left yet?”

“Nope.”

“Can we come?”

“Of course! I’ll be over in an hour.”

Then we were off to his awesome uncle Marc’s cookout and later to his parents house where we spent the night. And guess what? It was ridiculously fun. And guess what else? All of the fears that have come to fruition in past relationships have yet to surface. John is incredibly understanding of my wounded bird syndrome and he’s not going anywhere. With that said, I have some work to do so I can keep my freak outs, my fits of fear that turn into short-tempered anger, at a minimum.

After breakfast with his parents we headed to Lake Erie, which up until then I had envisioned as a giant dirty version of Lake Michigan. Clearly I was mistaken.

I didn’t bring a suit and then I got upset. Like a little kid I had to swim. So I took off in John’s car while he watched Benjamin trying to hunt down a swim suit shop but I couldn’t find one. Instead I returned with sunscreen for Benjamin and John, some water and a big frown.

“There are some mesh shorts in my trunk,” said John.

Ten minutes later I was in the water in his mesh shorts and my tank top marveling at how amazing a good man makes you feel, especially when he always seems to have just what you need. What we both need.

The road ahead is looking pretty darn good my friends.

[And I'm also happy to report that my fears that John Bear drove like an old man were put to rest when I used his Focus to pick up the sunscreen. I've been driving Fiesta Dave for so long that I forget what it's like to drive normal cars with no pep.]

Related posts:

1. Unexpected reality
2. The weekend
3. Smooth Operator