It’s no secret that Monica and I spend much of our evenings playing chauffeur for our girls. This week I came to the realization of how crazy it is.
Let me explain. Earlier this week the odometer on my car told me that it was time for an oil change and tire rotation. On Monday I made an appointment to take the car in on Friday. Between Monday and Friday I put on a few miles. Like 371 miles.
As best as I can figure, all of these miles were chauffeur miles. I picked the kids up from school twice, Clare had two gymnastics practices and one volleyball practice, Hannah had pep band twice and volleyball practice once, and I played volleyball once – the only local venue for anything. Oh, and I worked at home all week. Yup, call me Chives.
(In case you’re wondering, “Chives” is a reference to Hannah’s insistence that Chives is the name of every chauffeur. Not Jeeves, Chives. OK then.)