My son walks into my room and says, “Dad, where are your car keys?”
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Gym,” he says, and starts to walk out of the room again.
“Wait a minute. Where are you going?”
“To the gym.”
“I got that, but you asked me a question and you’re walking out of the room before I answered it.”
“I thought you could give me the answer as I was walking away.”
“Well, I can’t because the keys are in my pocket.”
“Oh,” he says.
“See, that’s what threw me off,” I say, “is I’ve got the keys right here and you’re walking in the other direction.”
“I don’t have time to stand around,” he says.
“You don’t? Well, I don’t have time to figure out other people’s mystifying behavior.”