The Girlchld and two of her friends are going to a concert tonight at the Tacoma Dome. Which means somebody has to drive them there and back (two hours each way), because while they all have licenses — no way. We’ll let her drive to Tacoma in the middle of the night when she’s thirty. maybe.
Then the kid talks me into getting a motel for the night so I don’t have to be exhausted and drive us all into a ditch.
So we’re headed for Seattle. I’m taking the laptop do I can work while the younger generation abuse their eardrums. But this all reminds me of one of the early Girlchild scams.
When she was four, she would come to me and say, mama, can I have these pennies on the counter to save up? And I’d say, sure.
Every couple of days or so the Girlchild would go to the Mathematician and say, daddy, I’ve got all these pennies and nicklees and dimes and one quarter and they add up to a hundred. Could I have a dollar? And he’d say, sure.
He’d give her the dollar, she’d give him the change…. which he then prompty put down somewhere.
It took us about a month to figure out what was going on.