Not ours.
Mondays we would sit in different seats. Char remained in the driver's seat, but I would move to the back and take Sarah's seat on the left-hand side or snuggle next to Taryn while sitting in the middle. Sometimes, when Charina had meetings in the morning, we would even let mom drive us to school. Mix-It Up Monday.
Tuesdays we would open up the cylindrical bank which we stowed in the glove compartment and pass it around. Inside we stocked tiny, rolled-up Tootsie Rolls. During December we would hold them in front of the small heat vents, hoping they would warm up. Come May, we would squelch through their rich brown texture while following our routes. June arrived and Charina and I cleaned out the back seat to see Sarah and Taryn had been stowing wrappers in the seat covers. Shnikes. Tootsie Roll Tuesday.
Wednesdays were nothing less than absolute crowning glory. The responsibility would rotate, but Taryn almost always could never come or would forget. It was part of the joy of having her there. "I have an appointment," she'd say. Every Wednesday? It was harder to get up and ready earlier than normal, but worth it when Sis. Griggs would set a sizzling plate of eggs in front of us, next to a cup of flavored hot chocolate and with a bowl of fruit on the side. And the last Wednesday of every school year we would go to Burger King and get some french toast sticks and eat them on top of the Old Farm hill. Worth getting up earlier. What's For Breakfast Wednesday.
Thursdays were impactful, to say the least. I'm impressed with how well that CD still functioned even after being tossed around in our car between Thursdays and the other days when we wouldn't use it. But that mix was the best, with a little bit of Abba and some Queen, in the line up behind Queen and Kelly Clarkson. Of course, it was the epic max blasting of Jump Around that made the car rattle with what were probably inappropriate lyrics as we pulled into the seminary building. No shame. Thundering Music Thursday.
Fridays were a good way to end the week. Nothing too stressful or filling or damaging to the temporal lobe. A good workout, in fact, at the Austin Bluffs and Oro Blanco stoplight. Maybe if the cars rushing down Austin Bluffs stopped to look they would catch a glimpse of our anxious bodies flying through the cold or the hot or the wet or the ice, depending on the weather that Friday. I think I even slipped on gravel once, sending me straight to my sorry rear end in the middle of the routine. Only once, though--good odds. Chinese Firedrill Friday.
They were long weekends when we didn't live those blessed moments from 7:21 to 7:37 on sad and sorry Saturday and Sunday.
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