Cheerios, Dog Hair, and Sand

Looking at my car, I decided that there are three things I always want in my car. For me, these are a sign of happiness, of a life well-lived. What are yours?

As a young mother, I used to lament my inability to vacuum up all the escaped Cheerios from my daughters, Jess, and Kate’s, car seats. The Cheerios seemed to spontaneously generate after enthusiastic vacuum jobs or just in mid-sentence. Now, as a happy grandmother, I cherish those Cheerios that root themselves in the fabric of my car after transporting my youngest grandgirl, Taryn.

The second and third are dog hair and sand. These two go hand-in-hand. What good is a life without either? After my friend Achim bought his second convertible, we went to the beach. As we parked near the beach, he commented that he always wished to have sand in his car. I agree. What a great thing it is to have a beach nearby, the energy to play in it, and the wisdom to visit it often. True joy.

The dog hair, for me, is bittersweet. My old girl, Mandy Dog, died some years ago. I hated getting rid of my Thunderbird convertible for many reasons. One of these was that they still held the promise of finding Mandy Girl’s hair here and there at times unexpected. I wax poetic. Dog hair, for me, represents having a great dog and close loved ones to share her.

These days, I content myself to enjoy my Danny’s Abu and DJ’s Bruno; Jess, Taryn, and Kaite’s Milk; Jerry’s Ace; Elena’s Jack; and Kathy’s Rufus and Ruby. Still, my dog days lay happily before me.

Cheerios, dog hair, and sand. Life is good.