As I’ve mentioned before, we live on a fairly busy street with lots of speeding cars.  Yesterday, the police were in front of my next door neighbor’s house, installing one of those speed limit signs.  You know, the kind that says “SPEED LIMIT 25 MPH.  Your Speed Is:__”  And then it has a radar thing and it tells you how fast you are going.  Obviously to make you feel guilty and STOP SPEEDING PAST MY HOUSE.  I can see you out my window and you are going way too fast!

Firstly, I register on that radar at exactly 11 MPH each time.  I know, it’s a 25 mph speed limit.  I’m not going that slow through the whole neighborhood, I’d get shot.  But it picks me up as I am about to turn into my driveway.

And secondly, today I, um, accidentally drove past my house.  I was thinking about that sign.  And I was thinking it was half a house closer to my house than it actually is.  So I reached up, hit the garage door opener button, and then wondered why the garage door wasn’t starting to open.  And then I wondered why my house suddenly looked so different.  Who planted those flowers?  And who stuck those decorative flags in my yard?  And oops, this is totally not my house.

I had to drive up the hill and turn around.  How embarrassing, to drive past your own house.