What a thought. It’s not my own though, it was a friend that reminded me of that phrase from childhood. It meant one was brave and strong, a bit reckless, quite fearless and confident not self conscious. Is there anything more to strive for in this life? Living life like someone has double dog dared you sounds outstanding and I want to be that person. I’m not yet, though I’m getting closer.

I wore my fancy shoes walking in New York because they looked better than my old Tretorns and my pride left me with sore feet, but I marched on and walked miles because one walks in the city. We saw an amazing play, Wicked, and I leaned forward in my seat and listened to the singing and tears ran down my face unashamedly. We left the play and meandered through a busy Times Square on an early Saturday evening and we stopped to watch a street show. We stood at the end of a sea of spectators and as one of the fellows looked for his last volunteer, he spied me from afar and truthfully, I wanted to flee.

I may like attention, but secretly prefer it from a distance. I smiled though and took the dare. I took my place in a line of people and danced and joked and talked and ignored terrible language as my children laughed and looked properly horrified and filmed me. It was fun, it was really fun. Doing that, saying yes with a wide grin means that three children will remember me, remember the mom who stood in a line and was jumped over by a laughing man, shirtless and tattoo covered, who referred to himself as chocolate.

I double dog dare you.