When I open my mailbox and see Runner’s World nestled between all the junk, I immediately smile, bounce resolutely back down my driveway, and remember all the reasons running has enriched my life.  So many reasons for which to be thankful indeed.

This morning I finished reading the September issue (hey, the target audience always likes to be ahead).  Of course I started with the article entitled “Break The Rules,” so it was of no surprise that one of my favorite lines was contained therein:

We are each an experiment of one.

Thank god, was the first thing I thought.  How could I deal with two of me?

Last evening, I echoed that same sentiment as Liv and I were at the High School registering for her Junior year, which is crazy enough in and of itself.  An extra $35 bucks so she could park in the “general lot.”  Generally, this is costing me an arm and a leg and a whole lot of lost sleep.  She is a mini-me through and through, and coupled with my ability to remember the past in all its pegged-legged Guess jeans, Coca-Cola sweatshirt wearing, 1982 Dodge Challenger stick shift driving glory, I may have to revert to some of my late ’80’s-early ’90’s tactics to get through these next few years.

For some reason when Liv retrieved her student ID, there were two cards.  Puzzled, she shuffled down the hallway – pretending still not to know me – when she mumbled sideways and over her shoulder, “Wonder why I have two?”

“I don’t know, but lemme tell ya, parenting one of you is all I got.  Love you, babe, but one is enough.”

She appreciates the same kind of humor as well.  Real-world is always way funnier to me than forced Jim Carrey-esque efforts.  And in real-time, as Liv and I stood in the never-ending parking permit line, I sent Chels a text.

Were WE this stupid in high school?

She replied immediately, as if she could sense my pain 3 hours away:  I think we were dumber.

Her response made me laugh x2.  Her word choice always cracks me up, along with her (usually) spot on insights.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I STILL loathe stupid, fake cheerleaders.  They are the dumbest.”

“Same!  Some things haven’t changed!”

As I am inside what Europe annoyingly sang back in those all important, moral-forming ’80’s, I’m especially thankful I know what I like.  And definitely what I don’t.