Long ago, Anne and I took a rather educational trip with her parents to our Nation's Capitol.* I have fond memories: Smithsonian visits; Old Town Manasas; the grassy Mall; and public transportation, which I navigated expertly. After three days on the subway, Mr. Dad** declared my "good spatial awareness" to Anne, Lynn, and maybe some food service strangers and a couple of museum docents. Washington DC knew I had good spatial awareness.
For shame.
As I spent 30 minutes today searching for my car in the right spot of the wrong parking ramp, it occured to me that maybe he was just being nice.
*Back when we called them "'rents" without a trace of irony.
**This is not to preserve identities. His name is Mr. Dad.
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