La Quinta, California: Leo sent me a text message last week... which spiraled into a several-day confused mess of misunderstood craziness. Leo and his friends have been creating short films on their ipads, using all sorts of locations and even car scenes where they are policemen and drive around conversing about their perp. Of course, since the boys are 13, they are only sitting in a car, moving the steering wheel back and forth and the audience is supposed to assume they are driving through the streets of Los Angeles. I'm really enjoying the short films.
Leo: Hey Bubbe, do you any old irons that you don't use anymore? If I don't get back to you, I'll be at school.
Bubbe: No, but you can buy them fairly cheap. (NOTE: I have an iron in the laundry room and an iron in the guest room.)
Leo: OK I will go to Dicks (Sporting Goods).
Bubbe: (NOTE: I was assuming he needed the iron for a skit prop.) They don't sell irons at Dicks! What is it for? When do you need it? I can Amazon it to you.
Leo: They sell it at Dick's.
Bubbe: Ask your mom.
Leo: Yeah, I just asked her and we're going to go this weekend.
Bubbe: Wait? Are you talking a golf iron? I thought you meant a clothes iron!
Leo: I meant golf irons.
Bubbe: I told Bubba and he immediately knew you were talking about golf. (NOTE: at this point I sent a photo of our iron and ironing board, as I was indeed pressing napkins at the time!)
Leo: Ha ha. I tricked your mind.
Bubbe: Not hard to trick me.
Bubbe: What iron do you need? We have tons.
Leo: 7, 8, 9 and pitching wedge if you have it. I just tried mine and they are too short - they are kid size.
Bubbe: Okay. Can you wait until you come out here next week? Bubba will set you up.
Epilogue: Leo did wait, and Bubba did set him up. It certainly is scary how my mind works at times.
Until my next update, I remain, your pressed correspondent.
I went directly to clothes iron myself.