My father-in-law picked us up at Kennedy Airport in our car when we arrived home in New York following our trip to Southern California to visit my parents, my brothers, sister, cousins, and their families.
In the car on the way home from the airport, my father-in-law told us that he couldn't find our car when he went to look for it to come get us. He couldn't even remember the last time he drove it. He looked on 189th Street, and then he looked around the corner. He found the keys on the mantel where he left them, but the car itself was no where to be found. He asked his wife. He asked his daughter. Neither knew where it was. He started to seriously consider calling the cops.
My sister-in-law's husband knew he would be looking for the car to pick us up so he moved the car to the end of the next block and returned the keys to their usual spot on the mantel. My father-in-law ended his retelling of the story with the comment, "British sense of humor."
No comments:
Post a Comment