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a 'six' on the gray hairs scale


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I'm coming back from Walmart with my son Jake and way down the dirt road I see my sixteen year old daughter Jill running for all she's worth. LOPING down the road. Jake and I looked at each other and I punched the gas pedal, ninety to nothing down the dirt road, bouncing all over the seat, groceries bouncing out of the back.

 

A million things went through my mind. Something wrong with my other daughter, emergency phone call from my husband, the house was on fire....every bad scenario I could think of in the space of thirty seconds.

 

I finally reach her and I slam it in park and jump out.

 

"What's wrong! What is it!"

 

She was all out of breath so I had to wait what seemed like hours for her to tell me what she was runnning from.

 

"Whadya mean?" She finally said.

 

"What do I MEAN? What the heck are you running for? Is something wrong at the house?"

 

"No....no. I was....I was just jogging".

 

"Jogging? JOGGING? I got news for you kid, what you were doing was not jogging. What you were doing looked like 'running for your life'!

 

"I...just decided I wanted to get some excercise."

 

"Well, okay, that's fine....that's good, but jogging is done slowly. You looked like 'prey' for God's sake. Don't ever do that to me again."

 

"Well...okay."

 

I was still shaking when I put the truck in gear and headed on to the house.

 

"Was it just me....?" I asked Jake.

 

"Nope....she was running like her feet were on fire and her butt was catching."

 

"Okay, all right then." Trying to shake the knot out from between my shoulder blades.

 

If I survive this mom thing I will be truly amazed. Joggin. Pffft. Her new health kick is going to kill me.

 

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