Nolan and I were watching tv when I looked up and noticed the time.
"Where is your father?" I grouched. "He said he was going to be home an hour ago; and I came home just for him. I'm going to kick his ass," I added.
Just then, Ben hollers: "Dad's home!!"
Nolan sits up on the bed, nodding appreciatively, "Wow...you're goood."
"You remember that," I told him, raising an eyebrow.
I'm really not. But how could I not take advantage of a coincidence like that? Better he think I know all than he know the truth.
Like today, for example, I had high-speed internet installed in my house. But before I could be seduced by it's fabulosity, I had little hitch. Great signal, the tech got it to work on the laptop; he left and boom, no surfy for me. I was annoyed, but figured I'd get to it later, or I'd call everyone I knew for "tech support." Later, when I had time, I started looking at the router, the modem, and touched some of the cords, checking the connections. I wasn't even really thinking about it; yet when I tried to get on the internet again, it worked. THE CORD WAS LOOSE. We must've bumped it when I moved that part of the wall unit back in. Doh! And isn't that the first question they ask you when you call for help: "Did you check the connections?" Double doh!
So, it's a) admit I am the dork that I really am, or b) let the boy think I totally rock.
Hmm, which would you choose?