Thinking About You: In My Mother’s Shoes

Somehow, some way, this song by Frank Ocean took me back to ’95,
Autumn break from school, the air was cool even as the sun was in bloom,
Carefree as any ten year old while temporarily paroled,
From school not juvy, but for the immature mind it might as well be,
I was home on this day, in between gaming messing ‘round with Lil’ Sis,
Grandma played sitter, Pops was working while Mom’s out buying groceries,
Childhood innocence, now long-gone, looking back with misty-eyed nostalgia,
Smiling at the memories as life sails inexorably towards the future,
Let’s take a walk in Momma’s shoes, relive a rather odd moment,
Unremarkable, to be sure, but not one soon to be forgotten

Another day of groceries, stay-at-home duties ain’t one big jamboree,
Still workin’, not just chillin’, when the kids are home it’s pure insanity,
Headed out early before the place lit up like a college party,
Found a good parking space, near the entrance, coveted by every harried shopper,
Got the essentials, fruits, veg, grains, meats and the necessary condiments,
Got a house full of eaters, kids are growing and don’t get me started on my husband,
Forty-five spent traipsing through the aisles, checkin’ sales and clearances,
Lined up at the check-out, took care of business and feeling triumphant,
Pushed the trolley towards the car, parking lot’s full and I’ve been spotted,
An eagle-eyed driver’s ghosting to take my spot, waiting to pounce like a lion,
Put all the bags in the back then drove outta there and that was that,
More cars are coming like the peak of the school run, parking lot’s about to get a lot more fun.

Reached a set of lights about five minutes from home,
Quickly turned red and stayed that way for much longer than the norm,
Another car ahead of me, several behind lined up like train carriages,
Taking deep breaths and wondering why this red’s taking ages,
Finally turned green, gotta head home to fix lunch and dinner,
But the fool out front’s stuck in unexplained inertia,
One second passes, no movement, two and three go by,
Four then five, dude’s still napping, time to give the ol’ horn a try,
Blasted it hard, others followed suit, louder than a 21-Gun Salute,
He snaps out the trance in shock, jumps up and throws his hands up,
His left clutching a dirty magazine, had a half-naked temptress featured on the cover,
Well that explains why that fool’s focus went straight under,
Quick as a rocket, fuelled by shame he revs up the engine,
Gunned that ride hard, high tailed it like he was Louis Hamilton,
Some folks are loco but gotta give him points for honesty,
Reached home, finally, that hour seemed to go smoothly.

There you have it, another random blast from the past,
Still has me laughing now, even if Momma was the one that witnessed it,
So next time you’re stuck in traffic, Son,
Trapped behind some chump that refuses to budge,
Give ‘em a honk and you just might see that they are off with the fairies at some other place that they’d rather be.

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