I hung out with my Dad today. Whenever my father the contractor says, "Hey, do you want to take a ride and run some errands?" I should know better by now to decline and just go to the beach. Why decline, you ask? Well, as all of my sibling (and my brothers-in-law) can attest to, my Dad kidnaps people. It's not intentional, but he has this way of holding his voluntary passengers hostage.
When he says "a few errands" what he really means is we're stopping at three banks, checking on a half dozen real estate properties all over town, going to the dog groomer and stopping at the lumber year and the aluminum place.
As long as I can remember it's been like this. You never know where you're going to end up when you agree to get in the car with him.Being hijacked isn't without its benefits, though. For example, oftentimes you can guilt my Dad into buying you stuff because he is, afterall, holding you captive. When we were little, he could quiet the entire station wagon with some Slurpees from 7-Eleven.
I passed on the Slupree today and instead opted for this sweet new beltbuckle at the local western store. Thanks, Dad. Yeehaw!
All I can say is the comments about "kidnappings" are completely and entirely accurate. This is the primary reason why my ride home from ballet class as a child took an hour instead of 10 minutes.