This Little Light of Mine

My sister and I drive to work together, because we are completely, unhealthily codependent and must be within grasping distance at all times. Kidding! It's because we work in the same 'hood. We are not morning people, to put it mildly. We've even trained the dog to be mellow in the morning. Bree doesn't allow me to drive because she's a total control freak who is only happy when she's bending others to her will. Kidding! No, actually I'm not kidding.

Anyway, since I'm not allowed to drive ("Not because I think you're a terrible, dangerous driver, even though you've never had an accident or moving violation and I have, but because I enjoy driving.") or change the stations on the radio ("Driver's privilege") or use the cupholders("What. Is. THAT?"), I read. Mostly Bree lets me be and just drives, but when she's really tired she tries to make conversation. Because it's so early, she rarely makes sense and I've learned to keep reading and only pretend to participate. I trust that she's not saying anything important, and even if she is she'll repeat it on the drive home. Basically, she talks to herself in the car in the morning. I think we both know that, though I'm still required to say "mmm-hmm" and "huh" from time to time.

But sometimes I start listening in the middle of something reallly bizarre.

"...quiet you can hear it sing."

"What?'

"If you're super quite, you can hear it sing." Oddly, the radio is silent.

"Hear what sing?"

"My new purse."

I blink, trying to figure out if I'm actually asleep and dreaming.

"And do you know what it sings?"

She's looking at me when she should be driving. I shake my head slowly, a little frightened.

"This little light of mine...
I'm gonna let it shine..."

Then she laughed a scary laugh. Fatigue can do weird things to people.

"I'm so blogging that," I said. "Without background info, so people don't know what the little light is, and you just come off like a dangerously unstable McCrazyhead."

"You wouldn't," she said confidently, smacking my hand away from the cupholder, where my Diet Coke sat like an amber jewel.

Boo-ya.

Comments

Back story is this:

My pretty new purse that I got for 14 dollars at VC Boutique has a small light inside that magically turns on whenever the purse is opened. It is extremely high-tech and cutting edge. I think someone is jealous.

[Cara]

Interesting, which part of that she chose to rebut.

[StepMonster]

VC Boutique??? Is that what we're calling it now???

[OGeorge]

Careful now...other people ARE reading this. Cara and Bree? Sounds like my old girlfriends Storm and Echo. I'm NOT kidding about the names. I'm old and alone now. Thanks for reminding me why. ;D Keep writing Cara.

[Cara]

Storm and Echo are way more eccentric than Cara and Bree.

And don't worry, I know she reads it. I try not to write anything that will make people I know angry. Even though it's tempting sometimes.

[Kevin]

I think that purse should be thrown over a telephone wire, where no one can reach it ever again. It's scary the way your sister latches on to in animate objects.