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Today we are beginning to feel the very outer reaches of Hurricane Sandy as she heads north.

Naturally, it’s also the day my husband decides we will enjoy a fine dining experience at a restaurant located one hour north of us, all highway driving, into a large, pretty psychotic city.  On a good day.  Never mind adding a significant wind and rain event.

We go.  We eat.  We almost forget there’s the beginning’s of a hurricane happening outside.

We’re just so happy to be dining in relative solitude.  Without little people yelling at us.  Or talking over us.  Or screaming at each other.  Or throwing food.  Or scratching at the wood of the table with their eating utensils.  And let’s not forget being able to actually eat out meal when it’s hot.

We leave the restaurant, and try to navigate around the large city with our GPS barking orders at us.

Well, barking’s an exaggeration.  Mandy doesn’t bark. She does, however, get slightly huffy.

We’re nearly home now.  For some reason, hubby hasn’t turned off the GPS, so Mandy is still directing us, even though we’re now on our own street.

“In one hundred yards, turn left,” she demands.

“Mandy would like you to know your destination is in one hundred yards,” I tease hubby.

“Wanna see me freak her out?” he says, jamming his foot onto the accelerator, gunning almost past our driveway.

Does he know she’s not real?

“NO!  I do NOT want to see you freak out the GPS and drive around in circles during a hurricane.”

The hubby and Mandy then had an argument about whether or not we were actually in our own driveway.

What did we do before technology?

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