Spunky, tiny, outspoken, athletic, and extremely independent, my beautiful daughter loves animals more than people. Nonetheless, most people love her once she allows them to know her. I love how bold she is with who she is. Always makes a statement. With her long, jet black twists blowing in the wind whenever she drives, she draws attention from others.
This particular day was a good one. It was a bright, sunny, hot, ninety degree day in August. Windows down and wearing a tank top, the sun glistened off her dark brown skin. She stopped at the stop light at a busy intersection. There was a very pleasant breeze blowing the twists of her hair causing her to close her eyes for a split second involuntarily. She was driving her bright red car from point to point on a Wednesday.
Opening her eyes and glancing up at the light, she bent to adjust the radio. This light was way too long. Suddenly she became aware of a persistent light beeping. She looked up to see a man making kissing jesters with his lips at her and blowing kisses. She politely shook her head “no” without a word. He beeped again and nodded his head for her to pull over. Again, my daughter shook her head “no” more adamantly this time as she looked at the red light. The man beeped again louder this time.
Tired of his jesters and not wanting to interact with him, she shook her head once again. Then, with unmistaken determination and a glimpse of a mischievous smirk, she lifted the arm closest to his side of the car straight up. He stared with bulging eyes in terror . She laughed out loud. The light turned green. The man lunged forward through the light. He was burning rubber and squealing his tires as he moved rapidly looking in his rearview mirror. Still laughing, she headed home.
Arriving home, she bounced into the front door. Seeing both of her parents sitting in the living room, she excitedly began telling us that she got hit on at a light. With two daughters, I heard such stories often. This did not phase me in the least. We stared at her. She continued to laugh wildly. I was confused. She told us what happened. No reaction from either of us. What was so funny? Then, she told us that she lifted her arm to him. I started to laugh out of control. Tears ran down my cheeks. My husband stared at the both of us like we were insane. Why is that funny?
Waiting for me to stop laughing, and quiet herself, she lifted her arm. My husband started to laugh. He rarely does. He leaned back on the couch and rolled laughing with his hands on his belling showing all of his beautiful white teeth. Naturally, we all laughed together.
She had four inches of hair under her arm. It was thick and long. That is what she showed the man at the light. After all, who shaves if they do not raise their arms?