A Three Minute Drive to the Past

It takes exactly three minutes to drive from my mom's house to M's parent's house when driving like a reckless high schooler.

I am, and always have been perpetually late. Tonight, as I was speeding up 306 between the houses, I had such a feeling of deja vu. How many times did I peel out of the driveway like a bat out of hell, and fly over to M's house, pulling in at least 10 minutes late. Only now, there's a baby in the backseat, and M isn't standing in the driveway waiting for me to get there.

Such warm and fuzzy memories are all over B-Town (like certain parking lots, eh? ;-). It just seems so unnatural to be sitting at his parent's kitchen table and the fourth chair is empty.