TUESDAYS are my busiest shift as my family’s unofficial cabbie.
After school, Delilah has netball practice then I have to throw some food her way, collect her friend and scoot off to gymnastics training for two hours.
I dread the rush, the getting changed in the car, the times tables as we are eating – and praying the traffic is kind.
We don’t get home until 8.30pm and then it’s a quick shower and into bed for Delilah before I start to assemble book bags, uniform and PE kits for the next day.
But this week, after I had picked up Delilah’s little teammate and we were zipping along on our way to training, instead of listening to my music I tuned in to the girls’ little chats.
I was a fly on the wall – unnoticed by the girls because I was driving – so just got to listen.
As I drove, I found myself smiling and felt privileged to have noticed this little moment I would normally ignore.
I chuckled to myself as they discussed their pregnant gym coach, and speculated on baby names and how they thought she would only miss one session because “it doesn’t take that long to have a baby”.
They went on to to compare the homework at their different schools – both believing the grass was greener for the other one.
But my favourite bits were the giggles in between rhyming silly words and making up songs with accompanying dance moves.
Just that innocent fun of sitting next to your bestie and feeding off each other’s grin.
I am not one for quotes about how we only have “16 summers” and all that jazz, but just hold on to the hope that my children will want to be around me for longer than they have to be.
I know that one day this ferrying to and from afterschool clubs will be replaced with 2am pick-ups from nightclubs – and then no taxiing at all.
I enjoyed our drive yesterday. I’m not that soppy but felt pretty lucky to be witnessing this friendship unfolding, and memories being made, in my car.
It sounds silly but the car is quite a magical place for me as a mum.
It serves much more than for getting from A to B – it’s a space for me with my music blaring when I’m on my own, it’s a space for deep conversation with Finnbar without the tense eye contact, a chance to hear about Delilah’s day with no distraction and the first place I ever got to hear Frey say actual words while chatting to himself in the back seat.
Being our family’s taxi driver is not as much of a thankless task as I once thought.
