While I was making dinner for Aleks (16) and IMing photos of our front yard remodel in progress to Elisabeth (22) and catching up on her already-successful medical device sales career, Peter (19) called to tell me that he and Danelle had run out of gas on his motorcycle (one of those "crotch-rocket" doo-dads...@@) and could I possibly go buy a gas can and gas and bring it to them. His timing wasn't great... since Tom and Kat are on their way back from a week in Southern California with Nana (Tom's mom) and they need to be picked up at the airport in a few hours. But in spite of it all, the only answer for a mom to give her woe begotten (HA!) son is, "Sure, I'll be there as soon as I can..."
So I set off to get gas, telling the station owner what had happened. He said, in a strong Asian accent, "You good mother. He lucky boy..." As I was paying, he dug into his drawer and handed me a lottery ticket, saying "You be lucky..." It was really very endearing and made me feel really good. As I left, I promised that if it was a winning ticket, I'd share it with him. It's still in my car; for some reason I can't scratch it yet!
When I brought Peter the gas, he thanked me profusely (really!), handed me money (knowing I would have demanded it anyway), and offered to pick up Tom and Kat at the airport at midnight. I accepted, of course!
I hope the lottery ticket is a winner so I can make the sweet gas station attendant -- and myself -- rich!
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