A few evenings ago:

I have to go to the mechanic’s shop to drop off one of our cars. This means that we have to drive over in two cars, drop off one of them, and return home in the other. It’s about 10 p.m. already, and the mechanic’s shop is fifteen minutes away. Also, intriguing spy maneuvers are apparently involved, such as juggling the lock on the mechanic’s gate and then sliding open the gate in order to park the car inside. Finally, the mechanic’s shop is on some dark, narrow street filled with warehouses (aren’t they all?). The daddy-o is therefore quite reasonably – in his opinion – concerned for my safety.

He insists on going with me. I attempt to placate him by pointing out that the sister and I will be going together. He continues insisting.

“We’ll be fine,” I say.

My belief that the daddy-o is worrying far more than the situation calls for is demonstrated when he retorts emphatically:

“No! You haven’t had your karate lessons yet!”

(How could I argue with that? Mr. Miyagi ends up accompanying me.)