The Mom Arm

I pulled a "mom arm" last night on one of my best friends.
You know the "mom arm" right? It's that moment when you're in the car and, even though you are wearing a seat belt in the passenger seat, a sudden stop occurs and the arm of the driver (usually a parent) just whips over in front of the passenger as if that arm can protect you from harm.

We weren't in a car... just walking along, talking, laughing, heading over to see a friend at work last night and have a drink... but right as we rounded the corner my eyes focused in on the very last person either of us wanted to see. I don't remember even thinking of saying or doing anything... my arm just instinctively reached over and whipped my friend around in the opposite direction. She didn't make a sound, and neither did I. For about 1/2 a block we just walked quickly... then she looked up at me (which she's gotta do since I'm about 10" taller, no joke) and said with a smile and laugh in her voice "can we hug?" So we did, and we giggled... and it all felt right.

At the end of the evening we talked about what happened, and both found it so funny that our instincts, and really our trust in each other, made it transpire so seamlessly. It was like every inch of my being's energy was thrust into my arm last night... and some how, some way, she felt that and didn't question it.

It may sound weird to you, especially if you've never experienced a moment like that. A moment where your instincts, combined with concern for someone else and their well-being, just take over any conscious thought and act on their own... add in the "Wonder Twin"-ish aspect of them just knowing and it's pretty great.... and if you knew the whole story of who the person was that neither of us wanted to see... well, that makes it funnier. If only we had a pet monkey named "Gleek."