Angry Hands

I love the phrase jazz hands. I don't use it often in conversation but whenever I hear someone else use it, it makes me laugh. A lot.

I have a friend who does a particularly good version of Jazz Hands. While skating. I need to get her to teach me. 

But there are other ways we can fling our hands around at strangers. A couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine was involved in a road rage incident. This particular friend (and every time she tells it, I laugh out loud like I do at jazz hands: this is SO unlike her) flipped a DOUBLE birdie at the other lady. The other lady - and I use lady 'cause I'm nice (really, what kind of lady follows someone around for 10 minutes and then gets out of her car and yells? Okay, maybe a lady who has been flipped off with the double birdie. I digress.) wasn't particularly nice and my friend was actually trying to assume responsibility and apologize and this woman wasn't having any part of it. The birds flew the coop.

So today, following a lovely Memorial Day parade on a record-setting hot day (in which some of us were participating in at least partially polyester uniforms; there was lots of sweating involved), we sought refuge at Chili's (after P and his friend, whose birthday is today, decided that by golly, they wanted Chili's for lunch). The road rage story was told. Again. (I still laughed.)

And upon leaving the restaurant, two of the three vehicles our group was occupying apparently had an almost incident (with each other) in the parking lot. And the Angry Hands were released! We followed each other onto the highway afterwards - Angry Hands waving at each other! Parents with children in the car, many of the parents in uniform, no less: Angry Hands!!

Smile for the birdie, kids!