Lost and found, kind of

We had the fire department banquet last night. It was pretty fun. The food was really good (I had fried shrimp and a huge baked potato), and Dalt won the most runs made over the year. Woo-hoo!

On the way home we stopped at Walmart for a few necessities. Dalton had to go to the bathroom when we were leaving, so he gave me the keys and said he'd meet me at the car. No problem, right? Except when I got out to the parking lot, I had absolutely no idea where we'd parked. We're talking zero-blanko, nothing. Just me and the crickets.

People were starting to look at me funny, so I tried to act like I knew where I was going. But they knew. There's not a person on this planet who hasn't lost their car in the stupid Walmart parking lot. They were just glad it was me this time and not them.

I wandered around for a while until Dalt finally came out and found me. I was so relieved. Finally, somebody to rescue me from wandering 40 years in the desert, er, Walmart parking lot. His face was such a welcome sight! I turned the cart and headed his way. He walked toward me with a reassuring, confident stride. He smiled at me, my hero, my fearless leader, my brave, strong, virile new husband. Then he said, "I have no idea where we parked, do you?"

Wow.