B. and I were stuck in traffic today in the ghetto-van when Blister in the Sun came on the radio. I whipped out this fake toy microphone he’d won at Chuck E. Cheese a few weeks ago — which I keep forgetting to bring inside — and threw on my sunglasses, after which I stuck my head into the back row and started singing at the top of my lungs. B.’d never heard the song before, which made it all the better… especially the part where it gets all whispery and then suddenly loud again, which he thought was hi-lar-i-ous. But the part I liked best was hearing “you’re the coolest mom ever!” among the laughter when the song was over. You can’t buy that kind of compliment.