Lost In His Own Museum

Ethan, bless him, is not a details man when it comes to matters outside of the classroom.  He finally had an opportunity to have a friend spend the night.  He talked about it for days.  He obsessed over it at every chance.  When the day finally arrived, he took charge and got the details.

Freshly home from an errand, I walked in the back door.  My wife stood in the kitchen drumming her fingers on the counter.

"What's up?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes, shook her head and handed me a note.  It was Ethan's handwriting alright.

"We're picking Tony up at 5:00.  Here are the directions: Go past Wal-Mart and you'll see a playground...I don't really remember the rest.  Oh!  The address is 311 apartment 1-0...something.  Do you want me to call him back?"

Good luck us.

- 11 October 2013