War of the Words

I just read a funny tale. A woman was transporting her large dog to the vet. She put him on the backseat of her car which was protected with a tarp. On the way to the vet's, she made a brief stop at a convenience store. When she came out the dog was in the front seat. Bad dog. As she was about to open the car door and scold, "You get in the backseat right now!" she realized it was not her dog. Not her car either, just some woman in the front seat of another car. Good dog. Bad vision.

Years ago, when my husband Jon was still working at 3M, we were out shopping at a big, Big Box store. He spotted an intern who had worked in their department. The kid was pushing one of those flat-bed carts to haul large boxes in those Big Box stores. Jon ran up to him, jumped on the cart, and said, "Take me to your leader!". A moment of recognition--for Jon. A moment of panic for the guy who was pushing the cart. He was NOT the intern. I think Jon slinked away. I was nowhere to be found . I have learned to melt into the woodwork when he does something like that. It sure seemed funny years later, though.