Yeah, so Aaron and I went to Wal-Mart today to get groceries—we parked in aisle 6—that’s important, so remember that.

I’ll spare you the lengthy grocery-shopping details here since they don’t pertain and you’ve all been grocery shopping anyway, so you know what a lengthy and expensive process it is. We’ll leave it at “Aaron and I got our groceries.”

I was loading the manna and quail onto the conveyor belt at the cash register when Aaron remembered he’d forgotten to pick up Ginger Ale (nasty stuff, if you’ve never tasted it—it tastes like carbonated weak tea), so he trots off to get some.

He’d just left when I hear over the loud speaker, “Will the owner of the Saturn SUV with license plate HPW-549 which is parked in aisle 5 please move you’re vehicle. You’re blocking the parking lot." My first thought was, “Please help that not to be us." My second thought was, “That sounds like our license plate number." My third thought was “If we play it cool, no one will know that’s our car.”

About that time, Aaron comes back with his ginger ale—he’s grinning a wry sort of grin. “Did you hear the announcement?" Everyone heard the announcement—everyone in the entire Fargo-Moorehead area heard the announcement. “That’s us, isn’t it." It wasn’t a question, it was a grasp at straws. No luck. “Yeah. I’ll go move it.”

We will never know what cute little sporty something or other drove past our Saturn SUV that made him roll all the way from aisle 6 to the middle of aisle 5, but I’ll tell you one thing—he’s grounded for a month, and he’s not dating it until he’s at least 18.