moving my cheese

I had to drive StacheMan to the Grands so that he could housesit for them. Driving to the Grands is something that I do on auto pilot. The same goes for the children’s schools, the grocery and the bullseye store. Routine routes are stressless.

I sang to the songs on the radio while StacheMan monologued about the condition of his computer cable. Spoiler: It’s frayed.

We pulled up to the four way stop where I usually start giving the children their marching orders. Instead of quizzing StacheMan on the feeding rules for the Grands’ cat, I sat at the stop sign and stared ahead. StacheMan’s mouth hung open and he gazed silently at our route.

“Where did the road go?”
“It’s gone. Why didn’t anyone tell me the road would be gone?”
“Why? Why did the road go away?”
“Why didn’t anyone warn me that there’s no road?”

We were a scene in a ‘Life skills for Aspies’ filmstrip.

After looping the alternate route, I called the Grands.

“You didn’t tell me that the road is gone.”
“I thought the sign said it was only gone for a day. I thought it would be back the next day.”

One thought on “moving my cheese

  1. I usually take a left at that stop anyway because turning left onto Western is horrible. Well, it was before they installed the traffic light. The traffic light that is now defunct since that road is gone.

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