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OT, but I just bought his latest book Dactyl Hill Squad, for my niece. She is 7, but a huge reader, so I hope she likes it, and that it isnât too far ahead of where sheâs reading (4th grade level). Itâs âmiddle gradeâ but I donât really know what that means. Iâm hoping itâs âmiddle of elementary schoolâ because thatâs where she is on reading.
Iâve enjoyed his other books, adult and YA, so I might just read the kid book before I give it to her, so we can maybe talk about it. I remember loving to do that as a kid, talk to a grown up about a book we both read.
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In sixth grade, I went on a family trip to New Orleans. We checked into a French quarter hotel which looked like right out an Anne Rice book. Late at night, an interior door opened and a slightly inebriated man walked in. He looked at my parents and said, âOops,â and walked back to his hotel room. We moved to the Holiday Inn after that.
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My mum and aunt took us kids to Florida for vacation. We got the standard white rental car.
Weâd parked in front of a strip mall to pick up some things, returned to the car, unlocked the doors, got inâŠ
âThatâs weird,â my aunt said. âThe steering wheel is tilted differently from how I remember it.â
That and some stuff we found in the car tipped us off that yeah, it was a different car, about six spots away from our rental. But yeah, identical model, year, colour, and key pattern.
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I asked for a different room when the hotel in Stockholm wasnât getting around to fixing the leak in the bathroom. I forgot about the European custom of handing in your room key when youâre out, so I blithely came in late and went up to my room. Turns out theyâd already moved my stuff to a different room. I walked in on a couple; fortunately only one of them was in bed at the time.
Otherwise it was a nice old (refurbished) hotel in Gamla Stan, with an elevator for one person, maybe two.
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I once hopped in to the passenger seat of what I thought was my friendâs car, outside a grocery store, where we had just bought some stuff. Nope. I scared the crap out of an old man in the drivers seat, who thought I was about to rob him. I felt so bad.
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When I still had my Saturn I learned from another owner I had basically a 1/10 chance of opening the door on any other one of that year/make with my key.
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My wife once unlocked a Plymouth minivan the same colour as ours in the parking lot at her work, only noticing after she got in that there was different junk inside.
The best was when my wife renewed our car license and got the new sticker for our license plate. She went out into the parking lot to find a woman who had also just renewed applying her sticker to our plate.
Those stickers are a bitch to remove. We ended up just putting ours over the strange womanâs. Iâve often imagined the reaction at the license office when she went back to explain the situation.
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Oh dear. Tail mostly down⊠thatâs not a happy kitty.
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Istanbul. Very appropriate for the cat-walk.
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