Where’d I park my car? (or, Adventures on Asphalt.)

I’m notorious for forgetting where I parked my car at Walmart.  If you ever see someone wandering about in a parking lot, it’s probably me.  And to make it worse, since Bob and I drive old cars, we don’t have that fancy fob that makes the car beep, honk, or otherwise send up a flare that says “over here, stupid!”  So I just consider my wanderings as getting in a little more exercise before going home to put away the groceries…

I do have some vestige of pride, however, after walking around somewhat dazed pushing a cart with melting frozen corn.  I would much rather identify my own vehicle BEFORE putting the key into the lock and realizing it doesn’t