Saturday, December 13, 2008


We have this lovely new babysitter, who happens to not yet be of driving age. Her grandmother lives two doors down from us and has become a good neighborhood friend. The babysitter, however, lives about 25 minutes away from us. This is fine if she happens to be staying with her grandmother. Which was not the case tonight. Tonight her mother dropped her off with the understanding that my husband or I would return her home. Of course it turned out that our dinner party was about five minutes further than her house. So we just drove all the way home, only to have one of us have to turn around and drive right back where we came from. I had volunteered to do this before I knew the location of the dinner party. My husband is infamous for asking me (at the last minute) if I can get a babysitter, and then not knowing the exact time or place of the social event. (Not so incidentally, if I do this to him, even if it is just our closest friends asking us to come by to BBQ "later in the afternoon" he goes ape-shit about my lack of details). So then, being the good southern gentleman that he is, my husband felt like he should really drive her home but wasn't sure if he should. I placed my hand on his knee and said, "I trust you, Garp." He was more worried about what he would talk about for 25 minutes. But now here I am, typing away to no one in particular, while he has to drive around making awkward conversation. So, I guess I win.

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