Your kids get driver's licenses and borrow your car!
Cell Phone: Uh...Abba?
Abba: Hello? Who is this?
Moe.
What are you doing on Fudge's cell phone?
She drove me to the orthodontist.
And?
And the keys are in the car...but we aren't.
And?
And...we called Mommy but she can't pick us up...because we have the car.
And?
And...you're in clinic seeing patients, so she got Grampa to agree to go to your office and get your car key and bring it over here so we can get in.
I see.
Aren't you going to say something?
Is there something that NEEDS to be said?
Uh...I guess not.
The only way this could be worse would be if the car were still running.
Hello?
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1 comment:
That's scary. Though at least you were laid back about it. Unlike when my father secretly followed me when I drove to my first teaching job. Which was just down Utopia, in North Flushing. About 15 minutes away. After we had "done the route together" several times, plus once in the dark and once trying to avoid left turns at stop signs. Aaaah, the neuroses we inevitably pass down.
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