One of my earliest memories is of my mom and I coming home from Grandma’s house. I was little, maybe around 4 or 5. I was still riding in a car seat, and we were in her station wagon. It didn’t have air conditioning and the windows were down. Kids didn’t have to ride in the back seat by law yet so I was up front with her. We took our freeway exit and while sitting at the light, a man pulled up in a beat up old chevy who also had windows down. I looked him square in the eye and cried out, “Daddyyyyyyyyyyyyy.”
My mom didn’t even turn her head. She got a laser lock on the traffic light with her eyes, nary a muscle twitched on her face and flush began to spread over her face.
It looked like this.