Tim has always been good with directions. North, south, east, west, side streets, main roads, highways. He knows them all.
Giving directions to someone else though is a different story. He tends to use car dealerships and gas stations as landmarks, and has, on more than one occasion, directed, "Go straight," when referring to a fork in the road.
Since all of this makes perfect sense in "Timmyland", it is unfathomable to him how someone cannot know where the Honda dealership is or which side of the split at the Toyota dealership is "straight".
So two weeks ago when we met Tom, Beth and the kids a the oldest's lacrosse game, Tim knew exactly where to go, never mind the directions Tom read to him from the school. Street names? He didn't need no stinkin' street names. He simply headed toward the Honda dealership, but made a right between the Subaru and the Shell station. Easy.
Turns out, both methods worked and we all met up there just fine. Unfortunately, it was raining by the time we got there, and familial support only goes so far (Yeah team!).
It was decided that, rather than all of us getting soaked, Tim, Rose and I would take the three other kids for a few hours and meet Tom, Beth and Reilly for dinner after the game. (It's good to be the aunt.)
Two hours later, we arranged to meet at a Chinese place about ten minutes away from each of us. Fifteen minutes later, Tom still hadn't arrived. Apparently, he had taken a right at the Audi instead of a left and was headed west instead of east.
"How long have you lived here?" Tim demanded querulously. "Don't you know that passing the Honda dealership means you are headed the wrong way?"
Tom assured him that he had turned around and was headed back.
"Don't come back the same way. It will take too long," Tim barked (someone's blood sugar was running a bit low!) "Get on the highway and we'll meet at the diner instead."
A series of directions involving gas stations and a grocery store followed.
So, off we both went, and although I was not in their car, I'm willing to bet that Beth heard as many colorful terms of endearment for Tim as I heard for Tom (It's a twin thing, and you don't ever want to get in the middle of it.)
Five minutes later, as we approached the diner, the phone calls started again.
"You're on what road?" Tim asked incredulously, the veins in his neck resembling a 3-D road map of their own. "How did you get there? Never mind, it will take you too long to get to the diner. We'll meet you at the Irish place instead."
Tom's response had the veins pulsing rather alarmingly.
Tim began spouting out new landmarks that involved car washes and restaurants. He concluded with, "How dumb can you be? See that thing in the car? It's called a nav system."
Using the main roads that he knew (he wasn't lost, merely taking the long way), Tom got to the restaurant just fine, and the two of them continued their "debate" good-naturedly(as soon as they got some food).
After dinner, we all headed back to Rose's for some cake to celebrate the youngest's birthday from three days earlier.
"Follow me," Tim ordered Tom. Adding, "Otherwise you'll get on the wrong road again."
Several charming hand gestures were given in response.
Pulling out, Tim got on one of the main roadways and...got off the wrong exit, heading east instead of west.
Two seconds later, the phone rang. It was Tom. "See that thing in the car?" he chortled gleefully. "It's called a nav system!"
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