*Disclaimer, one of the names has been changed to protect the innocent :)*
Tonight I went to see “Moms’ Night Out” with two work friends. It was hilarious and I recommend all mom-friends out there to go see this movie. You will laugh, cry (at least tear up a little!) and hopefully learn a valuable lesson.
But that’s not what this post is about. Back to the subject…I went to dinner and a movie with these two great gals and after the movie we parted ways to go back to our respective homes, husbands and kid(s). I had a ~15 minute drive, which meant, the windows rolled down and the music turned up….way up. Like as far as it would go, loud. (And I wanted it to go farther b/c the wind created too much other noise!)
Side note, I love music, the fast, fun and great-beat kind of music. Annnd, flashback to college when a fabulous friend, we’ll call her “Lucy” because aren’t all females called Lucy when you want to keep their real name a secret? Ok, so Lucy and I met and instantly became great friends. Similar upbringing, similar family structure, wait, I might be giving her away. Lucy and I used to go out dancing. It’s what we did on Thursday nights in the small town where we attended college. We had a great time just dancing and being girls.
Sorry, back to the story. So there I was, driving home, listening to whatever was playing on the radio. I think I was on a Country station first, oh yes. Keith Urban was singing about strummin on his 6 string and it was great. Then I got off at my exit, changed the station for something else and it came on. “Timber”. I’ll give you the vintage version, mainly because I would like to keep this family friendly and somehow this version isn’t quite as um, offensive? “Timber” Vintage. But it took me back. Even though this song wasn’t around when Lucy and I were tearing up the dance floor in that small town, I could see us out there having a blast, not caring about a soul. Doing our thing and loving life. Tonight I was loving life in my SUV, with the windows down and the music blaring. Singing the chorus at the top of my lungs (it’s the only part I know except the beginning: these biggity boys are diggity dawgs) and thankful for this wonderful life I’ve been given.
Thanks also to Lucy, who’s still one of my greatest and best friends…and I have a feeling, that if we’re ever together when “Timber” comes on, we’ll be tearing up a dance floor somewhere.