"Man, I know how you feel -- third wheel.
I have been the third wheel so many times in my life ...
my mom told me something once that made me feel a lot better.
she said the third wheel is what makes it a tricycle."
-- "Michael Scott," The Office
 |
| Three wheeler 7-10-14 |
Yesterday Leo invited me to go on a trip to the thrift store with him and his girlfriend, Mackenna.
I thought maybe he just wanted me to go along so I could pay. So I gave him 20 bucks and said they could go alone. He gave the money back and said no, they actually wanted me to come.
I asked if he was sure.
I didn't want to horn in on their time together.
I didn't want to be that weird mom who inserts herself where she isn't wanted.
I didn't want to be that awkward third wheel.
But he insisted, saying "We want you to come. Mackenna likes you."
Awww!
So I went.
I rode in the back seat of Leo's car and listened to their adorable, entertaining banter.
Mackenna and I helped Leo pick out a couple of pretty cool shirts.
Then I left the two of them alone and cruised around the music section while Leo waited for Mackenna try on dresses. She found a pretty great little sweater dress, and I found a used Indigo Girls "Shaming of the Sun" CD.
Being the third wheel is typically a bad thing. Shadowing along behind two people who are all gaga in love with each other and who don't even notice whether or not you're there isn't all that fun.
But our little threesome to the thrift store wasn't about all that. It was simply about three people who enjoy something in common, doing that thing together.
Leo and Mackenna enjoy the treasure hunt atmosphere of searching for vintage-y treasures buried in the clothing racks.
So do I.
They enjoy getting really great stuff for practically pennies.
So do I.
They both like straying from the high school herd and wearing unique clothes that aren't emblazoned with the same "guess where I buy my socially acceptable clothes" logos.
So do I.
We all like the thrift store because you never know what abandoned little gems might be quietly waiting on a dusty shelf for you to notice them and maybe take them home -- like the warm fuzzy feeling that your kid isn't embarrassed by you, and that he likes you enough to take you out in public with his girlfriend and actually share his life with you.
I paid for our finds -- they didn't cost much.
But that last little treasure -- that one didn't cost me anything at all. Just a little bit of time.
It didn't go into the bag with the other stuff.
I carried that one home in my heart.
