The Circular Package Beckons Me

I used to be a soccer mom, you know, the type of mother that lives in her minivan while driving her children around town from soccer game to soccer game.  After years of being a soccer mom, I gave it all up to be, instead, a taekwondo mom.  Now, instead of driving around from soccer game to soccer game, I get to spend my days at the taekwondo training hall. 

Most of the time I like to wait inside the building talking with the other parents, reading a book, and watching the children train.  It sure is boring waiting in the parking lot alone in a minivan during a thunderstorm, wondering if I should wait it out in the van or run for refuge inside the air-conditioned training hall and get soaked.   But that’s just where I found myself the other day.

Stuck in the minivan during a violent thunderstorm, waiting for my son’s taekwondo class to end, unable to open the doors or roll down the windows of the van for fear of ruining the interior by allowing a burst of torrential rain into the van, fearing the gas tank nearly empty and the battery dead, suffocating in the stale heavy air in the van, the allure of a circular pack of mints with the name Ice Breakers® was too strong.

Ice sure would be amazing. Wonder how it would feel in this stifling air to have just one of the tiny mints inside the package actually be made of ice: a tiny ice chip to cool me, to settle the unsettled, to quench the thirst, to help me forget the lack of a breeze in this self-inflicted prison cell inside my van. 

Popping the lid of the package open, I find a dozen tiny ice chips.  I violently and quickly throw one into my mouth.  The coolness was immediate.  The thirst is gone. The rain slows down long enough for me to open the door and feel a strong cool blast of a thunderstorm breeze blow on my face, or so it seemed.

Yes, I’ve gone certifiably insane, I decide.  It’s time for me to either make a dash for the building, go to the gas station to fill the tank, drive around town for awhile to make sure that the battery is charged, or continue to suffer in the van, being taunted by a package of mints.

Guess which one I chose.