An argument for the GPS

Tonight was Micah's basketball practice. I have never been to one before so Paul encouraged (ahem) me to take him this time. Since I've never been (and since Batavia has no youth basketball program) I needed directions to the school where the practice was being held. From Paul. Brief directions. Verbal brief directions.

So Micah and I leave at 6:30. This will give us time to stop and get something to eat along the way and be there by 7:00. It's just the next town over after all and Wendy's is on the way.

Wendy's has a line. Micah suggests we go in, but I think it will still be quicker to go through the drive-thru.

Ok, so it's now 6:45 and we have our food and we're on our way. We're practically there for heaven's sake; we surely will be early. We have 15 whole minutes to get there.

"Micah," I say, "I've never been to your practice before. Do you think you can help me get there?"

"Sure. I think so."

It's 6:55 now and I'm not sure which way to turn, but I know I'm close.

"You were supposed to turn back there, Mommy. You passed it up."

OK, so I take the next street so I can turn around and head back.

"Wait a minute." Micah says. "This street looks right, too. Maybe this is the right one." So we head down it for a bit. It's 7:00, now. It's not the right street.

We turn around and head back to the street I passed up. We drive down it for a bit until Micah says, "Well, I thought this was the right one, but now I'm not so sure. It doesn't look right." We turn around and head back out. It's 7:05.

We travel down the road a bit. Micah says, "I recognize that place! That's where Daddy had to turn around. You've gone too far, Mommy. Turn around." I did. We went up and down the same streets again. Still no school. It's 7:10.

I continue back up the road. I pass all the streets that we've driven up and down at least two times already. I pass the place where Daddy had to turn around. Eventually I come to a street that I remember Paul mentioning in his verbal directions. Jackpot! We find the school! Micah jumps out, basketball ready, and runs for the door. It's 7:15.

The gymnasium is decorated for Christmas. There are tables set up where there should be boys playing basketball. There are nice women working on "Breakfast with Santa" posters instead of coaches running drills. Micah is standing in the middle of it, looking perplexed. He looks at me, "Are you sure there is practice tonight?"

Micah and I are driving home. It is 7:20.