I was driving behind a very slow garbage truck yesterday.

It was one of those old, mostly metal, heavy, dirty, dusty looking trucks that carry waste to landfills.

I said aloud, “Please don’t turn, please don’t turn, please don’t turn” and then let out a sigh when his right blinker went on a second before mine.

Hanna asked, “Why don’t you want him to turn Mom?” and I asked her, “Why do you think I might not want him to turn where I’m about to turn. There are two reasons.”

“Because he’ll be really slow?”

Yes, that’s the first.

“Because he’ll throw dirt and stones at our car?”

Very good, that’s the other.

The garbage truck turned very soon after we both journeyed down the same street and in my relief, I started to say, “See ya later S….”

It was a strange moment, me just saying what I was thinking out loud for my kids to hear.

I realized saying “Sucka” didn’t seem appropriate so I stopped myself mid-sentence and changed it to “See ya later Smista” which was meant to sound like mista my made-up slang for mister but sounded a lot more like semester.

I spent the rest of the ride home explaining to the kids what a school semester was.