I began working at my current position in November 2006, and started driving my current route to work in May 2007 after we moved to a new location. There's a house on a particular stretch that always caught my eye. I get stuck at the light in front of this house all the time. It's a lovely old house with a circular driveway, which I adore, but what really caught my attention was the family. One morning, the mom was heading to the car with a toddler in her arms, tucked him into the car seat, kissed the dad* goodbye, and drove off. They are what my sister used to refer to as "The Pretty Family." The scene was just so sweet, yet so mundane that it stuck with me.
Over the years, I noticed some changes. Mom got a new car (a Mercedes wagon). Dad must have gotten a new job or a new schedule because he was leaving at the same time now. The little one was growing. It was kind of like watching a very long, very slow movie montage of years passing. But, like all things that you see every day, I eventually stopped noticing the pretty family on the corner. Until today. I was stuck through two lights and watched the mom apply sunscreen on a now very grown up child. I swear, the kid looked like he was about eight or nine, although he couldn't be more than six--six and a half tops. There's a dog now, too. And my first thought was, "aww, look at how big he's gotten," followed immediately by "Holy Crap! How long have I been driving this route? That kid is practically in High School."
It doesn't feel like five years. How can time have passed by so quickly?