Turn at the Sand

I had to take Lexi back to the orthopedist today. He wanted to get some xrays of her arm to be sure the bones were still aligned properly. (Her arm is fine, btw.)

Anyway, we'd only been to the office once before and I couldn't totally remember how to get there. Have I mentioned before how I'm directionally impaired? I seriously have no clue how to get anywhere. I couldn't find my way out of a paper bag. Honestly, one time, my friend Erica and I planned to drive out to NIU to visit our friend, Julie in college. For those of you who don't know, NIU is in Dekalb. Dekalb is about 50 miles west of where I lived at the time. We ended up in Chicago. Chicago is about 30 miles southeast from where I lived at the time. That's right. We hit the lake before we realized we weren't going in the right direction. It didn't occur to us when we were seeing skyscrapers instead of cornfields, oh no. We had to hit the stinkin' lake before we realized we weren't in Kansas anymore. (That was just a saying, by the way. We didn't really go to Kansas. But given enough time, I'm sure we could have accidentally gone as far as Kansas.)

And I hate when I call someone for help and they say something like, "You have to go east." Do you really think I have any clue which way is east??? If I knew directions, I wouldn't be lost! Joe can follow directions that say something like, turn east on 95th, then go south on Main. I don't work that way. I need directions that say something more like, turn at the 7-11 that's right next to that Mexican place that serves the burritos as big as your head. Then drive down until you see that big rock by the house with the red roof.

So, I was trying to remember how to get to this doctor's office and I mumbled to myself, "Hmmm, I hope I remember where to turn. I think it's somewhere up here."

Clay piped up and said, "You have to turn by the pile of sand."

"Pile of sand? I don't think there's any sand, Clay."

"Yes there is," he confidently insisted.

"OK Clay," I said humoring him, all the while knowing there wasn't any sand.

A-ha! This is the street! I got in the left turn lane when I saw the familiar street.

"See? I told you to turn at the sand," Clay said in that 'I May Be Four, But I'm Smarter Than You' way.

I looked up and sure enough, across the street, there was a huge pile of "sand" gravel where they were doing construction.

I looked in my review mirror at Clay and exclaimed, "You're right! You know what, Clay? You're too smart for your own good."

He got a smug look on his face and I'm pretty sure I heard him say, "I told you so!"

As I drove along, I started thinking about my next turn, hoping I'd remember where I needed to turn right. Clay must have sensed my confusion because, I kid you not, he asked, "Know where to turn next, Mom? You turn at the big hill of sand."

"More sand?" I inquired.

"Yep!"

Wouldn't you know it! At the next intersection, there were slopes covered with new grass seed and a layer of straw.

"See Mom! There's the sand hill!"

"You're right! It does look like sand. Wow, Clay! You have a really good memory!"

"Yep. Remember that time I stepped in chicken poop?"

"Uhhh, no."

Lexi joined in on the conversation at this point. "It wasn't chicken poop, Clay. It was goose poop."

"Oh right," he responded.

The conversation pretty much went downhill from here.

Of course, when we got home, this same kid, Mr. Awesome Memory, had to be told 4 times to put his shoes in the closet. Why? Because he didn't remember me telling him to do it!

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