Where’s Amy?


Ok, because I always loved the Where’s Waldo series I have decided to start Where’s Amy here at I Could Cry. I will periodically post pictures where I am hidden somewhere in the image. Not unlike Al Hirschfeld‘s burying of his daughter’s name, Nina, in his illustrations; some will be easy and some will be damn needle in the haystackish.

This is the first one. Of course there will always be a little story associated with the image because, well frankly because I can’t shut the hell up.

This hot bike was parked in the lot at my son’s soccer game last weekend. I am pretty sure the guy that owned it parked it right there in the middle of the land of minivans and SUVs to give all the dads a little ‘ride’ envy as they passed it by. You could see each of the dads get that far away look in their eyes thinking about how they could just blow the whole family popstand and ride off into the sunset on one of these babies. 

Ok, maybe so did the moms. But just for a minute.

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone

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8 responses to “Where’s Amy?

  1. judy

    ok–i clearly have too much time on my hands on fridays….trying to find your reflection somewhere on this cycle—but i keep looking at the scary skeleton…..that’s not you, is it???

  2. Is that your leg (and tennis shoe) reflection to the right of SUPER?

    It’s true. I’m at work, have no life and thus time for this.

  3. jude, nope more meat on me than that skeleton

    andrea, good try but no, not not to the right of super.

  4. margi

    then you’ve gotta be to the LEFT of super? wearing white crop pants, black top and a pink purse..?? with a loooong neck like in the mirrors at the fair. that’s GOTTA be you!

  5. bingo Margi, you found me. BTW those are my fave shorts!

  6. Liz

    Girl. You’ve now officially gone over. I’m sending the straitjacket and will meet you at Happy Hills in a few hours!

  7. Pingback: Stroller Dog « i could cry but i don’t have time

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