She leaned into him, her hand on the back of his head, and pulled him toward her for a kiss. They were in the back seat of a car. A car that was in front of us. As we drove. Too slowly. 15 miles below the limit. On the long series of ramps heading into MIA. One lane only. We had a flight to catch. She was creepy crawly all over him. We were horrified and transfixed. “Eeeeewww!!” we yelled (not squealed) with disgust. Because after the kiss, was the grooming. Like a monkey. She pulled his shaven head down and apparently was popping a zit on his head. A stubborn one at that. (“Eeeeewww!” says my reader at this point). Then another. Then fixing his shirt. Grooming. Like monkeys. More kisses. The people in their front seat oblivious. We should not have seen it. But we had a flight to catch. We were behind them. Too close.

Which left me with curious thoughts. Was he leaving on a trip, and she couldn’t bear to let him go? Did he feel suffocated by her mothering? Were they married and he had affairs because she treated him like a child? (I know, I know, my mind goes way off the path when it comes to observing human behaviour). Did he enjoy it? Was it comforting for him?

Which left me with spiritual thoughts. How controlling are we in life? Do we face situations where we feel the need to kiss, groom, squeeze, adjust, and generally overwhelm and overcompensate – because we’re scared and can’t trust God? What do you think? Are there circumstances and challenges you face, or even people you love, that you figuratively can’t stop messing with?