Last night as I drove away from dropping the ear doctor off at the airport I had my little puppy sitting on the front seat beside me and I was listening to the country station. Suddenly, those old familiar notes of Lee Greenwood's classic I'm proud to be an American: God Bless the USA came on.
I don't know if it's the Olympic fever or what, but I brazenly lowered my windows, pumped up the jam and belted out those lyrics. The punk rock kid listening to Bad Religion in the car next to me started dry heaving a little. Even Roscoe was rolling his eyes at how utterly dorky it was.
Then, I came home. Plopped on the couch and satisfied my guilty pleasure by watching the Notebook. The ear doctor will no longer watch this movie with me because I become a sobbing little pile of jello with tears cascading down my cheeks.
Could there be a more nerdy combination of activities for one night? I think not.
Clearly, the ear doctor is away for a a week. Otherwise this level of nerdery would never be attained. He's in California this week helping his parents move. And I miss him already.