I enjoy jumping out and scaring my kids. I enjoy telling them scary stories. I enjoy whistling when they least expect it. It tickles my funny bone and I can get miles of laughter out of one incident. It's what I do. Something about the fear in their eyes and the twitching of their bodies that just lights me up.
On our return trip from Oregon, Shae and I pulled off at Los Banos to fill up the car and secure a bite to eat. We grabbed our grub, pulled under a shade tree and sat in the auto and began to chow. With windows down and the breeze blowing through, it was quite comfortable sitting and spending more time together. There was a cicada outside in the tree that started chirping and it was getting on my last nerve big time. I told Shae "I wish that bug would take off. That noise is really bugging me, pun intended." Shae sat there and continued eating.
She unexpectedly stopped, looked out my window and screamed "look out mom, here it comes!" I almost jumped into her lap, shaking and shivering from head to toe. Shae and I laughed one of those laughs with no sound for like, five minutes.
You did your mom proud, honey, you did her proud.
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