(Background in case you’re just tuning in: Alpha Geek and I both drive Honda Fits. We purchased them two years apart; other than their color, the cars are virtually identical.)
This morning The Director missed the bus, so I drove him to school. Alpha Geek’s car was parked behind mine in the driveway, so I just took his car.
As we were buckling in, I said, “Now let’s see if I can remember how to drive Daddy’s car.”
My son laughed. “It’s exactly like yours.”
As we were driving to school, he remembered that he needs a note for the days he was absent earlier this week. School policy is that such notes must be turned in within two days of coming back to school—i.e., today. He had paper in his backpack, but no pencil.*
“I have a pen in my glovebox,” I told him, pulling in to the drop-off-the-kid line.
He opened the glove compartment, which to my surprise was filled with stuff: paper, glasses case, who knows what.
“What is all—” I began, then facepalmed. “That’s not my glovebox.”
We wound up parking so I could go to the office and borrow a pen.
*Which I will need to ask him about when he gets home—how does one go to school without a pencil?