I caught up with a friend recently whom I hadn’t seen for years. He gave me grief about how my hair was going gray – the normal crap you get from good friends. Somewhat defensively, I suggested that my change in hair color was related to the stress of my career and a soul sucking, tramatizing daily commute.
But, here’s the real reason.
It’s a Sunday and I see my son getting out of bed.
Me: “Hey son, good ‘morning’.” (Said with just a touch of fatherly sarcasm as it’s after 1pm)
Son: “Mumble, mumble, mumble.”
Me: “You were out late last night.”
Son: “Yeah, I was out with some buddies. We got into a drifting competition with some rice rockets from San Jose.”
Me: (Trying to keep from exploding) “What? Where was this?”
Son: “In a big empty parking by the airport. ”
Me: “Was this in our car? Were you driving?”
Son: “What? No way, I don’t want to trash it! We drove my friend’s parent’s mini van.”
Pause while I digest this…
Me: “Wait, isn’t that front wheel drive? How can you drift a front wheel drive car?”
Son: “Cafeteria trays.”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Son: “Cafeteria trays. You get a couple from school, put them under your rear wheels, set the emergency brake and then let it sliddddddde.”
Me (under my breath as I walk away shaking my head): “Good God. What did I do wrong in a former life…”