I made a right. Then a left. A u-turn. Another left. I circled the block. I was getting dizzy. What should be a three-minute jaunt turned into a 20-minute epic journey of every street, alley, boulevard, or cul-de-sac within a two mile radius.What the heck are they teaching my kid in first grade in public school, I wondered, because it certainly isn’t navigational skills.
For the first time in seven years, I was having doubts about my genius child and his future as an airline pilot. If the tower told him to fly from Denver to San Francisco, who’s to say he wouldn’t take a little detour to New York and perhaps Canada? He would get fired on his first day.
Don’t panic, MOV, don’t panic. It’s a joke! He’s messing with you!
“Tall,” I began, “Who taught you this shortcut? Was it Grandpa? Because he lives in Colorado and doesn’t know our streets. If you drove this way with him, he might’ve been lost.”
“Mom, don’t vilify me yet! I know exactly where I’m going. Trust me.” And then the kicker: “I’m trying to do YOU a favor.”
Maybe he was unclear on the definition of “shortcut”? Maybe he thought it meant something about wasting time and making other people in the car lose patience?
“Sweetie, what do you think the word ‘shortcut’ means, exactly?”
“It means ‘a shorter way home’.” And then to his brother in a whisper, “Why does she have to be so pedantic?”
Right-left-left-turn-right-across-back-right. I glanced at the gas gauge: it was on empty now.
“Look, Mommy!” piped up Short, “We’re almost home now! You’ll recognize this next street. Just look around and think hard.”
All I did was look around and think hard. My whole life was look around and think hard. I was afraid my brain would explode.
“Okay, Mom, last turn,” announced Tall triumphantly. “There’s our house … this is precisely the way our school bus goes.”
this is a modified version of a story I wrote a while ago/ trifecta writing challenge / exactly 333 words, required word is "pedantic"-- meaning unimaginative or pedestrian