She honked while I chatted up a driver in the opposite lane.

"I just spend half an hour getting from Costco to here." The driver was complaining; Costco sign still in vicinity.

"Me, too," I sigh.

"They have a serious problem."

"Seems so. It happens every year around this time," I concur.

"You have a good memory."  I am not sure if the driver is joking.

"I would use it, too, if not for the pet." I am pointing at the white box with red lettering where a little brown critter is sleeping in the corner. "I could have not bought a pet weeks in advance."

She honks again. She has a perfect hairstyle and I am sure well-manicured fingers that are lying on the steering wheel now. We are both stuck in a traffic jam around our local mall. I call her Jewish Mom. She seems to have adopted me. There is a little bit more space in front of me so she makes sure I fill it.

Earlier she honked at me for letting yet another driver in. She looked impatiently while I dissolved the traffic jam on the intersection: "Mam, if you move a little bit forward, the lady over there can go across our lane into that parking spot that she covets."

"Our son has been asking for a hamster for months," I share with another driver in the opposite lane.

I still don't own a hands free-handset for my cell phone so talking to other unfortunate drivers is my only entertainment.

"From my own experience, hamsters make such poor pets! They sleep during the day and they don't like cuddling."

I check my rear-view window.

"I went to the pet store and  there they were: two hamsters hidden out of sight in the their little dome. Sleeping."

Sigh.

"Underneath the hamsters were guinea pigs hopping around.  When a mother with two kids came and pointed at them: "Look! Hamsters! Aren't they c u-u-u-te!"  My idea was cemented – I decided to buy a guinea pig colored like a hamster, call it a hamster and hope no one notices.

I hear laughter roaring around as the drivers turned off their engines and rolled down their windows.

My adopted Jewish Mom behind directs me to follow the left turning lane. It seems like a good idea, so I do. As my own mother has said : "My daughter always has listened to me. She just did what she wanted in the end."

As we linger on the highway for the next couple of minutes, I follow the mantra of penguins from Madagascar and wave and smile to the fellow holiday shoppers. I see their grim face cracking a smile, too.

Then we reach a point where the cars speed up. I put my notebook down, step on the gas and wave to the driver behind me goodbye. I turned lemons into a lemonade and an hour of jam into a four-hundred word story.

I hope My Jewish Mom she is proud.

By Dilyara Breyer

Labels: Costco, Dilyara Breyer, holiday shopping, Jewish Mother

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