Where’s my driver?


     where are they? 


I searched the trunk. 

The front seat.

…and obviously, I’ve checked the back seat, too.

Nada.  Nothing.  Zip.  Zilch.  Nuffin. 

Reluctant and forlorn, I finally exited the auto.  I’ve gone into the house to sulk, oh, and to wait for another snow storm. 

There isn’t anything normal about Texas anymore. 



P.S.  When I learned you were sending the car, I obviously thought you were including yourselves in the package. 

Sniff, sniff, sniff.

Call home soon.  You need to ask the older lady if I’m still crying.  Oh, and please check to see if I’ve eaten.  She doesn’t seem to be doing much of that baking thing these days.   I guess she’s just about as depressed as I am.

~ by coffeegrounded on February 21, 2010.

2 Responses to “Where’s my driver?”

  1. Oh my poor baby…give her extra kisses and tell her we’ll see her soon :)


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