Or: GPS was invented for me.
Remember back when I said GPS was invented just for me? I was so right.
We ventured out on the road again today, making our way across 4 states. Midway through the trip we stopped for some Steak ‘n Shake. After eating, we got back on the road eager to make up some time after our stop. Except after a minute I realized we were in the middle of a small-town town square and not at all on our way back up the interstate.
Huh? What the hell?
I thought Gloria was taking us on “an off-route detour.”
We managed to make a few turns and I thought we must be taking another route to the interstate. There was the possibility that all the red and blue interstate signs were wrong (not a likely possibility, but still…) I kept going and then things began to look familiar. Ah yes, there went the Steak ‘n Shake, where we had just eaten. And there went the Good Will that I noticed on the way to SnS.
I had turned out of Steak ‘n Shake heading away from the interstate. Doh!
I wish I could say that was the first time I have gotten turned around. Or the tenth. Or the thirtieth. But it’s not. I get turned around quite easily. Finding my way around my high school was a nightmare. I still get turned around in doctor’s offices that I have been to a hundred times. After Maggie’s kindergarten tour, when we were free to leave, I had no idea which way we had come from.
“It’s this way mom.”
“Let me look. I just need to figure out which way we came from.”
“Mom, follow me.”
And she led me right out of the building the way we needed to go. Good thing she travels with me a lot. Between Maggie and Gloria I might just find my way home.