When Geezers Hide Stories From Their Kids
Don’t send me to the farm with Rover
I was going with my companion on day jaunts somewhere and she noted that my new gizmo-laden car’s back-up camera wasn’t on. I told her I must have pushed something, I didn’t know what and would have to ask my son to help me. It’s a typical technology-changed-and-I-don’t-know-what-to-do story.
Ironically, I went to his house, forgot to ask about the backup camera activation, and backed out of his driveway into a parked car. Now, only an idiot would park a car away from the curb immediately behind a driveway on a narrow residential street. And only another idiot wouldn’t look behind her before backing up.
I left a sizeable dent in the car’s panel, so I dutifully knocked on the door of the house and left a note with all my relevant information for the man who answered the door. The car, he thought, belonged to a friend of his tenant, and both were away for the weekend.
My car had no damage.
I left, and he promptly went over to my son’s house to chat about the fender-bender.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t need to inform my son about a fender bender to create another red flag in his field of red flags. I don’t ask how many flags are out there right now. When his best friend roasted him…
