pain in the ass

First day in DC, sis, Jake and I went looking for a clothes store. Jake was wearing long dark pants and had forgotten to pack any shorts for himself, a problem in this sweltering weather. We only had to walk 5 blocks but I was wincing at every step. Everyone was walking far ahead of me. I was sweaty and hot, in pain, and mostly annoyed that we had to be shopping.

Can't anyone at least walk with me??? I cried as I limped along.

And then I suddenly remembered an incident with my mom.

There was a summer that hubby and I relocated to Paris for his work. I encouraged everyone in my family to come and visit while they could take advantage of free housing. My mom came, she had never been to Paris before. I had a humungous double stroller to push that took considerable energy to both move and control as we strolled the Champs-Elysees. I was impatient that my mom wouldn't (in my mind) walk faster, forgetting that we had already been on our feet for more than a mile to get to that area. I was always slightly ahead of her, deliberately at times because I thought I could get her to move more quickly. "Can you just slow down??!!" she cried, so upset with me after probably an hour of holding it in, "I can't walk that fast, okay???"

Ugh, I told my sis, recounting the memory. How could I be so unsympathetic and awful to mom?

Do you want to take a cab, Gimky? Let's take a cab, my sis instructed as she hailed one down.

Okay, I easily relented, I would love a cab.