The entry gate to our community is kind of screwy. It’s supposed to open and close automatically if you’ve got a transponder in your car, but sometimes it just stays open.
Last night, we were driving up to the gate when my wife hunched forward over the steering wheel and asked, “Is the gate open?”
“Oh my god,” I said. “You can’t see if the gate is open?” She has glasses and contacts but doesn’t always wear them.
“Honey,” she said, “life is a journal. Take a risk.”
My son started laughing his head off in the back seat, repeating, “Life is a journal! HA HA HA HA!” over and over.
I told him, “You won’t be laughing when we’re all dead because a blind woman was driving the car.”