For those of you who love my anecdotes about my family, here are some more.
We went to the beach. I love the beach, but as I’ve mentioned previously, I have two small kids. One of the things you have to understand about going to the beach with two little kids is that you will invariably spend the entire time standing in the water up to your calves. There’s no getting around it.
So, to facilitate keeping the stuff staying dry, which I won’t get to use during the entire beach trip since I’ll be standing in the water anyways, I brought the stuff up the beach above the high-water mark in a large free spot. My aunt clearly believes that I’ll be sitting with the stuff and don’t expect my kids to go anywhere near the water. The only way I’ll be spending any time at all with the stuff is if it’s vacuum packed, but she wants me to move it closer to the water. Either way, I’m still at least a mile from it, and if someone were to try to take it, I’d be waving and giving them my blessing.
Had I taken the stuff to this smaller spot below the high-water mark I would have gotten eviscerated for not planning ahead. It’s one of those moments where you just have to close your eyes and think of England. Long and hard.
My grandfather drove my car over too. He decided that no one since 1967 has ever used an emergency brake on a standard transmission, and told us all as much. His theory is to leave the car in gear and hope for the best. My father once told me, “No, don’t do that! You’ll ruin the transmission! That’s why God invented the emergency brake.”