One of our young and naive daughters uttered those words several years ago. Even though our guests thought it was hilarious, the rest of us grinned and inwardly thought, "But it's true - we don't."
Yesterday reminded me, again, of why I choose not to get out much.
It was my weekly grocery outing to Columbia. Non-eventful...until I finished at the first store and came out to the parking lot. There was a guy leaving a note for me on my car.
"Wow," I thought. "That's a little creepy, but hey, maybe I'll be able to make Nate jealous enough with this story that he won't be in a hurry to leave the country again for awhile." You know us wives...always scheming.
No such luck, however, unless Nate will be jealous of our Forester. Yup - the guy wanted my car. Talked to me the entire time I was loading my groceries, telling me what awesome vehicles Subarus are, and how he especially was looking to buy a used Forester, because he'd owned two different Volvos and they just didn't compare.
Talk about getting your bubble burst in a moment - now I was feeling even older and rustier than my car.
Due to the fact that I don't get out much, I had never yet approached Columbia's one diverging diamond interchange from a side road. (I normally like going through it - for a short moment in time I can pretend I'm driving in the UK.) For some silly reason I assumed that I could get from point A(ldi) to point H(yVee) simply by driving west to Stadium and then south to Broadway. Perfectly logical. Imagine my surprise when I approached the diverging diamond to get onto Stadium, and next thing I knew - BAM - I was driving east on I-70. The opposite direction of HyVee...and at 70 MPH to boot. Still don't know how that happened.
No - I don't get out much.
A random thought consoled me as I exited off I-70 in order to get back to where I'd started so I could try again. "Well - if that creeper guy who wants my car is stalking me - I probably just lost him without even trying."