People look. I’m a long haired blonde in a convertible with the top down. Of course they look. But the lingering stare I’ve enjoyed the most didn’t come from a tall dark and handsome, tie-me-up, tie-me-down drink of water.
I pulled into a restaurant parking lot as a mom and little girl were walking out hand-in-hand. She looked to be about nine years old. Her head turned as her big eyes followed me and my car as I parked. Short brown curls bounced as she tugged on her mother’s hand and said, “Momma, I want that!”
I smiled. I remember being about that age and seeing a young woman cruising down the interstate, top down, hair in the breeze, seemingly without a care in the world and the life she wanted firmly in hand. As I pressed my head against the glass of my mother’s minivan, I thought the exact same thing: I want that.
I hope she hangs on to that dream. I did.