It's no secret that I am terrible with directions. I come by it honestly, though. Family legend has it that after my parents got married, they set off across the country on their honeymoon. Not too far into the trip, my dad handed my mom a map. If she did then what she does today, she started flipping the map around so that it was oriented with the car going up the map, because everyone knows that's the right way to hold a map, even if it means west is "up". My dad, quite proficient at map reading, was not impressed. But heck, the wedding was over and there was nothing to do now, so off they headed, and I do believe they got to where my dad was hoping they would get. This started my dad's career as being my mom's personal Mapquest service. Who needs a computer when you've got a yellow tablet, a pencil, and an engineer for a husband?
Long before our wedding day, Ed learned that I suffered from my mother's skill deficit in the map reading department. I've gotten better over the years (as has my mom), but I can still manage to get lost going someplace Ed and I have been 100 times. It's impressive if you really sit and think about it.
Last Thursday, as I was driving Connor home from pre-school, I decided to stop by a friend's house that is a few blocks further down the main street than mine to drop something off with her nanny. I hadn't cleared this detour with Connor, and as we passed our street, I heard from the backseat "I think that we forgot to turn onto Connor's street".