Here’s another memory from over the summertime, and it’s not a good one. Max and Mitchell had band camp all of one week and on Wednesday they were going to a late movie after the practice was completed. There was a miscommunication earlier in the day and Max thought that Julie was going to be picking them up, while she asked that they get a ride to the theater. Apparently Max passed on ride offers since he thought Julie was coming and by the time we reached them on the phone they needed a ride to the theater. The problem was that they were about 15-20 minutes away and most people had already left. Julie was too mad to go, which left me. The problem was I had just had my eyes dilated about 3 hours earlier and they had not fully recouped. I had a heck of a drive over to pick them up, constantly blinded by headlights. And then I realized I didn’t have my wallet either.
When I got there, two ladies were waiting on the curb but I never got a chance to talk to them, and possibly thank them for waiting. Instead, Max and Mitchell were bickering with me. Fortunately, I was able to calm them down and get them to the theater, where someone else was waiting outside to buy their tickets. She didn’t seem to happy either, as when I asked when the movie let out, she said in an exasperated voice: “Come back in 2 hours, Mr. Mazzoni.” Of course, because all movies are two hours. Ahhh, the joys of communication with teenagers.