Today Son #4 and I took a long walk together, mainly just to spend some time out in the sun. I did have a destination in mind: had to pick up a prescription. We walked, talked, observed the sky & clouds & fine weather and interesting new construction and lovely, lush green grass. We reminisced about the extremely adorable kittens he and Son #3 once found on that very route. It was a great walk, a great time with Son #4.
Except.
The jewelry store pipes music into the parking lot.
Anne Murray.
Now, should I have any Canadian readers Of A Certain Age, I am sorry. Truly sorry. But it has been 4 hours and I still can hear "Can I Have This Dance (for the rest of my life)"
It makes me want to scream, OK? Or maybe hurl a brick through the window of the jeweler's. Probably not what they were aiming for.
Of course, I wasn't buying jewelry, either, so maybe their clientele just cannot get enough of that sort of thing.
On reflection, I think even if I had enjoyed the particular song blasting the street when I walked by, I think we would all be better off listening to the birds, outside. Sometimes, anyway.
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