It was an ordinary Tuesday morning. I had just dropped off all three girls to my mom, no Adi in the car to keep me company before dropping her off at preschool. I was listening to Trevor Noah recount his early years as he narrated his book, Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood. I hardly noticed the red light I was stopped at, just part of the autopilot routine of getting to work. I was stopped right next to an entrance to a gas station, getting lost in a story, when I noticed a problem.
A car exiting the gas station was getting ready to pull out, probably hoping I’d let him cut in front of me, with a brown Dunkin Donuts bag sitting right there on the roof of the car. That’s so sad, I thought to myself. That poor person is going to lose their breakfast.
I could help, I thought. But how?
I could beep. But how would he know I was beeping at him? I could roll down my window, but I didn’t think that would catch the drivers attention. What if I waved my arms, maybe then I’d catch his eye.
I went with the arm waving, totally out of character to be drawing attention to myself. I leaned towards the passenger side window and waved my right arm up and down frantically.
It worked. The driver saw me and looked at my quizzically. I smiled…awkwardly I’m sure.
What now? I hadn’t thought beyond getting his attention.
I rolled down the window and pointed at the brown bag. “Your donut I shouted!” pointing wildly to the bag. “Your donut is on top of the car.”
It all clicked. The man realized what the crazy girl in the minivan was trying to communicate. He raised a hand in thanks and opened his car door to retrieve the bag.
I took off for the highway, feeling extremely proud that I had saved breakfast.