PARKING LOT(s) Ther...

PARKING LOT(s)

There was that KFC chicken-- ordered to go and consumed at the back of his pick-up truck, in a parking lot outside the mall. That wasn’t too special, I figured. Then there was that boy who sang me “Stars” by Switchfoot at the church parking lot. That was cool, I thought. Then there was that car conversation in another country, telling me how special I am, as he drove us to park down at Basement 2. That’s not the first time I’ve heard this, I recalled thinking. Then there’s that nagging to get my reverse parking perfect- and the reminder to remember where I parked. That’s the one I’ll hold dear. My dad, you see, is still a better man than those first three.