The wife and youngest son got home well after midnight last night.

Driving separate vehicles, even though they left together.

Yes, he has a new car. Newer than ours. I suspect the payments, insurance and cost of gas will force him to get a second job, or a better job. Which will be a good thing.

But nine hours to go 95 miles to buy a car? All the wheeling and dealing had already been worked out. They got to the dealership fifteen minutes before it closed. Even with all the paperwork, a dinner in town, and a quick stop to Wal-Mart, I (and the heelers) expected them back by nine o'clock.

My worries were laid to rest by a call from youngest son at eleven o'clock. They'd been in Wal-Mart.

For three hours.

Mind you, we only needed two things.

But they bumped into friends in one aisle.

And talked.

And talked.

For three hours.

In an aisle in Wal-Mart.

As I sit here this morning, thinking about things other than work, I wonder what the store security people thought. After twenty minutes, this cluster of six unmoving people might have seemed suspicious.

But after the first hour or so, well, they've probably seen this before. Our state is, after all...

A small town. With really long streets.