~ Overcoming Conscience ~

I had just dropped my Varmint off for her basketball practice one night this week, and a fellow basketball parent, Doug, was standing on the sidewalk outside the gym.  I was still in my car, so I rolled down the window and we started a brief conversation.

This guy’s daughter is so dagnab cute on the court, I’m completely in love with her.  She goes beyond the idea of “Arms up! Defend that basket!” and prefers the “Flail-about-wildly-and-scare-the-crap-out-of-your-opponent-because-you-look-so-completely-unstable-that-you-just-might-lose-it-on-her!” approach.  And what makes this so gosh darn funny is that she is cute and blonde and girly and did I mention cute?  LOVE that kid!

So her dad and I are chatting for a moment.  I informed him that I was just about to drive to McDonald’s to get a nice hot small Mocha since I was so darn tired I was afraid I wasn’t going to last the night.  He said he was going to spend the hour waiting for his daughter to finish basketball practice by going for a walk (it was a beautiful evening) and getting some exercise and in general relaxing….

Enter the self-imposed guilt….

I knew immediately that his idea was a much better way to spend my time.   I didn’t have to think twice wondering what was better for me:  Sitting in a running car with the seat warmers on, sipping a sugary, caffeinated drink, or walking around our charming little town on a beautiful evening.  There was no question that his idea was infinitely better than mine.

But, you see, I have a disease called Inertia.  Especially when its augmented by heated leather seats, sugar, and Radio XM Blue Collar Comedy Channel.   Larry the Cable Guy would definitely approve of my choice, and I don’t know whether or not to laugh or cry about that fact.

So I did what any other conscientious parent/friend would do, and I tried to convince Doug to come to McDonald’s with me.

He remained firm in his choice, and I watched him stroll away in the beautiful evening air.

Oh, I was irked.  Now how was I supposed to enjoy my sugar and fat beverage, and my turbo-heated butt-seats if I can see him doing the right thing in the face of my wrong thing?

Well, dear friends, I overcame it by changing my order from a small Mocha to a large Mocha. Somehow, that made perfect sense to me.  Don’t try to follow the logic, you could get hurt.

That was Wednesday.  I still haven’t slept.