Kicking & Screaming

My father has family that live in another state, and once a year I'll drive him kicking and screaming there for a visit. Well, not really kicking and screaming. More like mumbling and grumbling.

The first time we went was different, though. He actually looked forward to going.

Since I had never driven there before, as we entered the state I stopped at a Welcome Center for a map.

Maps may seem like an outdated concept these days—like VCRs and TV you don't have to pay for—but this was before cell phones were so common. Heck, the iPhone hadn't even been invented yet.

The elderly lady who helped us was very sweet and greeted us with a friendly smile.

"Can I help you?" she gushed, mainly to my father.

I looked around but didn't see what I was looking for.

"Do you have any maps?" I asked.

"Of course I do," she answered.

I asked for a state map and told her the name of the city we were visiting.

"I'll go get them for you," she said, and then, conspiratorially confiding in my father, she said, "I keep them in the back because if I leave them out, people just come and take them." 

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