Laughing with Jesus (Not at Him)!

I spent this past weekend in Indianapolis, home of the Indy 500 (which I’ve never attended). It’s been over 15 years since I’ve been to Indy. I have many wonderful paternal relatives who live there. I took my mother to see her sister-in-law, P, whom we stayed with. We had a great visit and we should have done it a lot sooner. I not only reconnected with my Aunt P but also my cousins F and S, who are married with families. Above is a photo that hangs in Dick Sporting Goods. The handsome young man in the fishing hat with the fishing net is F’s son, my modeling cousin.
F, who I’ll just call Fiona, and I quickly learned that we share a lot in common. Growing up, Fiona was a little over a year younger than me. That was a big difference back then so when I would visit Indianapolis with my mother and brother, Salena and I spent more time together than Fiona and I. That’s just the way it is with cousins when you’re young. Fast forward to 2006 and over the course of one day spent viewing gravesites, having lunch, antiquing and enjoying dinner out....we shared lots of laughs. Fiona is raising a wonderful son who has a beautiful smile. We both agreed that we were meant to be "boy momma’s." We agreed that we indulge our sons and they are great men in the making. Throughout the day, Fiona and I laughed at our own jokes and one-liners. We think along the same lines and we have a similar warped sense of humor. I think Fiona would agree. It’s the kind of humor that is appreciated by some; tolerated by everyone else. Over dinner I shared with her what I haven’t shared with anyone else (at least I hope not) and now I’ll share with you. Remember the song, Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) by Annie Lennox and the Eurythmics in 1984? Sure you do. I remember hearing it for the first time during the summer at a little marina in Bear Point, Alabama. The first line in the lyrics is "Sweet dreams are made of these," right? Right. But for whatever reason, the first time I heard the song I thought she was singing, "Sweet Jesus, Meter Maid." Now THAT’S funny because, you know, Jesus would never be a meter maid. A construction worker perhaps, but never a meter maid. I’m not sure what possessed me to share such an old and odd (and frankly, a little stupid) story. Well, Fiona and I started laughing and laughing at the dinner table (most likely with visions of Jesus on a little moped checking meters). Not exactly appropriate behavior for middle-aged mothers. Our mothers and her son just looked at us like we were exactly who we were: crazy.
My cousin and I now share a few words that will forever create laughter.
That’s a good feeling.
Sweet Jesus, Meter Maid. What was I thinking???