Dad called at 7:30 this morning because he wanted to know if we were going to the store. His car broke down a couple days ago and it's parked down on the street. He doesn't want to pay to have it towed to a mechanic so he's waiting for Drew to handle it. We just got the truck fixed after Dad had borrowed it and returned it with messed up electricals. Jim was already gone taking Paige to school and since I was still half asleep (really!) and didn't want him to sit at home hungry I told him to come get the truck. It took him forever to back the truck out. I stood at the kitchen window and watched him do the clutch pop cha-cha down the drive way.
Ok, we've got to do something about his car.
How long should we let him keep driving? He still seems like he's able to but the fog is closing in pretty fast. Soon it's going to be too dangerous for him to drive. And you can be sure he won't be the one to see it first. Getting his keys will be like taking a gun from Charlton Heston's cold, dead hand.
Later...
Dad just came by. He said Drew is going to deal with it tomorrow. That solves one problem.
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