Do Androids Dream of Commuting Sheep?

It all starts with us being late for work.

Not the harried late for work from oversleeping after not setting the alarm, but the lazy, morning after a romantic evening drinking fine Pinot Noir and eating bread and exotic cheeses kind.

Faced with having to make a nine o'clock meeting, we opt to break from routine and drive into work rather than taking the train.

We arrive with a few minutes to spare – time enough to pick up a coffee and chocolate-chip/walnut scone from the bakery next door. I kiss him goodbye, drive over to my work and park at the mall nearby.

Our day continues on in a typical manner. Busy. Meetings. Deadlines.

And after work, as is routine on evenings he has his son, he takes the train over to my work and we walk over to pick up his son from day care.

And true to routine, we all hop on the train back to the transit center where we park our car every morning.

You know, if were following our normal routine.

As we arrive at the bottom of the ramp, his son asks where the car is.

My sweetie turns and stares at me, eyes wide.

I look at him, still not getting it.

The car. We forgot the car.

Sigh.

So here we are, cold and tired, with the grim prospect of taking the train back into Portland. I hadn’t eaten anything since the coffee and scone that morning, so my stomach was ready to start digesting my other organs.

We desparately try to come up with another idea, but there just wasn’t any alternative, we need both of us to pick up the car, and we can’t take his car because the car seat is in my car.

His son emphatically does not want to go. I warm him to the idea with promises of food and escalator rides at the mall.

“Cookie for me?” he chirps.

Oh yes - there will definitely be cookie involvement. It’s not his tiny little fault his parents are sheep. I’m sure he’ll come to that conclusion all on his own in a few years.