Wouldn't that make a good movie title? I can see it as a Will Farrell vehicle.
Mondays are my duty day. I have to make sure I drop off The Pony at the stroke of allowed-drop-off-time-thirty in order to make it across town, schlep in my stuff, log on five times, and appear in the parking lot by 7:45 to deter mayhem. Sure, it may sound simple. Until you are cognizant of the fact that Newmentia time is seven minutes ahead of Basementia time. That means it takes me thirteen minutes to drive three miles.
It's not like I run into gridlock. There are not even any stoplights in this burg. The speed limit is 20 mph. I know that. Because one year, a kind young man in a black-and-white car flashed a red light at me, and informed me: "Speed limit's twenty, Ma'am." Good to know. I shan't go 24 ever again. This time-shifting conundrum is a good thing if you're going the opposite direction. When I used to travel to Basementia for the second half of my day, I could arrive there before I even left Newmentia. Voila!
The point I started out to make is that I'm rushed for time on Monday mornings. I take breakfast with me, and consume it in T-Hoe. It's usually whatever I can find that won't make a mess of the steering wheel, stain my clothes, or require two hands. Yesterday morning I grabbed a small, recycled marinara sauce container full of Munchies: Ultimate Cheddar. I'm not a big fan of the Munchies. I used to buy a super-hot buffalo wing version at Save A Lot for the #1 son, until I couldn't find it any more. So I grabbed the Cheddar.
I munched from it off and on, as traffic permitted. By the time we approached the park near The Pony's school, I was down to a cheez-it, a couple of chex, and a pretzel. The Pony came to life. That's the demarcation line where he starts putting away his reading material, listens to the off-beat news story, and tells me whether he's staying after school for Academic Team practice.
"Eww! Something stinks. What did we pass back there?"
"I don't know. What did it smell like?"
"I smells like feet."
"I didn't see anything. Maybe it's something in here. Is it my Munchies?" I passed him the container."
"That's it! It smells like feet! CHEESY feet!"
"Thanks for the blog post. Cheesy feet. Breakfast of champions."