I’m a sentimental sap. I may sound like I’ve got it all together but give me a chick flick and some popcorn on a Friday night and I’m blubbering like a bloomin’ fool. So, it was no surprise to me last Tuesday when I got that feeling again. Heading back home with my SUV full of groceries, there they were. I am guessing this couple was in their 60’s. In his 1980-something Chevy pick-up truck. Worn and beaten down, but still puttering along. Both were wearing glasses because I ‘magine they’ve seen a lot in their lives. I don’t know how long they’d been together but clearly they still liked each other. How do I know this? Because she was sittin’ in the middle. You see, where I come from…deep in the heart of Texas…when gals dated a guy with a pick-up truck, they sat in the middle. There was no wondering if the guy and girl were an item. It was an understood thing. Chris and I don’t have a bench seat in either of our cars. Those days are long gone because of the bucket seat. So, even though there will always be a console separating us while we’re in the car, in my heart… I’ll always be sittin’ in the middle.