On Thursday afternoon, I rolled out of my house, ready to pick Scarlett up from school. My sister-in-law, Beverley, was the driver that day, and she walked out behind me, pressing the button that opens the side door of the van. As the ramp unfolded, I saw that my path was blocked—bizarrely—by the fat black Honda instruction manual that normally resides in the glove box. I also saw that the driver’s seat was fully reclined, as though someone had been sleeping in the car.

Later, Bev joked that she thought maybe I had made Rob sleep there the night before in a moment of irritation. I laughed. “There’s no way your brother would ever sleep in the car or even on the couch unless it was his choice.” Rob is very, very stubborn, which is irrelevant to this story, but I felt like sharing it anyway. Maybe it’s a foreshadowing thing. I guess we’ll see.

Upon closer look at the van, we realized that all the contents of the glove box were strewn around the floor. I called Rob.

“Did you put the van driver’s seat into a lying down position and empty the glove box onto the floor of the car last night?” I asked conversationally.

“No,” he answered slowly, as though it had not been an entirely normal question. Read More>