So yesterday was the first day of spring break and naturally, I needed a ride home. So this time I decided to go with Dave and Nate (who lives in Media, PA near Swarthmore). They've done this before, and they've always been fine doing it. With the exception of our hour-late start, we were doing okay.
And then we hit Scranton.
We missed a turn, and the boys didn't really notice that we missed the turn until an hour and a half later when we were 23 miles outside Harrisburg.
Oops.
It's not completely their fault, part of it was the pea-soup-thick fog, but seriously?
When you're driving alongside Hershey Park and you get home at 1 AM rather than 10 PM as planned? That's a problem. And that's why you GET OUT OF THE CAR AND ASK FOR FUCKING DIRECTIONS.
God. All the stereotypes about male navigational "skills" are totally true.
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