What I’d Really Like, Dad, is to Borrow the Car Keys

22 Aug 2010 /

My son walks into my room and says, “Dad, where are your car keys?”

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.”


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