So, this past Wednesday, I missed a lunch date with a couple of my buddies. I was real sure that the guy who called me said that we were eating at Eatery A on the river. I heard Eatery B on the river. I missed the date.
A few years ago at an out-of-town track meet, we coaches were cleaning up our site after the meet --picking up stuff that our kids (yes, high schoolers) had left behind.
I picked up a shoe box (this piece of information is real important) full of CDs and was carrying it back to the bus. One of our runners came running down the sidewalk and stopped me to say. "Those are my CDs." That's not what I heard. I heard, "Those are my shoes." So, I responded, "No, these are compact disks."
The boy just stared at me.
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1 comment:
Getting old isn't for sissies. At least I think that is how it goes? I can't remember who told me that and why.
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