So a few days ago I tweeted this photo of myself drinking a Petro’s iced tea.
I was visiting my hometown for the day and one of my online friends who has also lived there jokingly commented that I should have a Petro and drink an iced tea for her. I thought it would be funny to actually do that. Well, minus the Petro.
What I actually did before this picture was meet some high school classmates for dinner at The Cheesecake Factory. (Petros are good, but they can’t hold a candle to The Cheesecake Factory) I think it’s a gift from God that we have friends in our lives like the ones I met that night – we hadn’t seen each other in many, many years, yet we picked up the threads of our relationship right where we left off.
We said our goodbyes and I took my girls shopping in the mall for a few minutes. (Makeup. They wanted makeup. They’re 9 and 12. Whatever happened to stuffed animals?) Then I went to Petro’s to get a glass of their Hint of Orange Iced Tea. (half sweet and half unsweet, please)
Back in the car the girls were ripping into their makeup in the back seat while I tried to get a good shot of myself drinking the tea. I couldn’t get the lighting right so I kept taking shots until I felt something cold hit my leg.I was so busy posing that I hadn’t realized I was literally pouring tea out the top of the cup where the straw goes. My shirt was soaked and so was the leg of my shorts. You can barely see it as a big dark spot on my shirt here, before I felt it:
I’ve got to say I was a little embarrassed that I was so concerned with how I looked in a picture that I didn’t realize what I was doing, even though no one saw me. It felt vain. But I think being a little red-faced is good for me once in a while. It keeps me humble.
I did drink the tea and while I used to love it when I lived there, I didn’t enjoy it as much as I thought I would. In fact, this is going to sound totally weird, but some spice they use reminds me of the smell of the cat litter we use at our house. (Clean, of course.) Every sip reminded me of cleaning out the litter box. That doesn’t make for a pleasant thirst-quenching experience.
And then I got to make the three hour drive back home. Through the mountains. In the dark. And the intermittent rain. All wet. The discomfort of wearing wet clothes making me even more uncomfortable mentally, as I wondered if I’m putting too much effort into how I appear to others. I’m still wondering about that.