About the only thing I hate more than auto-correct is fat-finger-syndrome. Mostly because I can’t blame it on auto-correct.

BK

Advertisements

Shopping done. 

Groceries loaded.

Seatbelts fastened.

Ignition on. 

Spaces in front of me empty.

Next row clear.

Gearshift in drive.

Pulling forward. 

Turning right.

Judy: “You’re going the wrong way.”

Me: “I’m going the wrong way?”

Judy: “Oh! No, you are going the right way. I said the wrong thing.”

Me: “You did.”

Judy:

Me: “You owe me an apology.”

Judy: “I’m sorry.”

Me: “You’re welcome.”