I’ll admit to being a little absent-minded at times. I maintain that I’m just preoccupied with more important things. (Like inventing a diet soda bong for my car so I don’t have to let go of the wheel while driving. Admit it. It’s a good idea.)
Anyway, I’ve always been apologetic for my forgetfulness. I talked to my mom recently and she relayed two very interesting stories which assuaged my feelings of culpability.
Story #1: Driving home from Baltimore Monday afternoon, Mom was lost in thought and accidentally drove up the exit ramp of the freeway. And almost got hit by another car. And almost died. I guess those big red “Wrong Way” signs didn’t catch her eye.
Story #2: My 6½-year-old brother Matt went over to his friend’s house the other day sans underwear. Apparently, he forgot to put it on that morning and hadn’t noticed all day.
HA! It’s not my fault I’m absent-minded. It’s in my blood! Look at these freaks I’m related to.
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