Observations and Things Heard in the Car

Missouri License Plate that said: "Classy."

Brett, staring lustfully at an empty new-car-hauling truck: "I wish I had that cash!"

Daniel, upon viewing the ruins of a Church on Spring Ave.: "Mom, Roman ruins!"

MBA Conference (that we totally walked through, not that we attended): No less than 15 women attempting to replicate the weird Omorosa short-skirt, aggressive walk, super enunciated speech, and the phrase "overcompensating attention whore" etched in their unmovable hair.

Everything that comes from McDonald's tastes exactly the same. Even a mango-raspberry shake has the flavor of warm vanilla lard.

Grandma: "We never said, 'fuck,' around our kids. The worst we ever said was, 'shit,' and 'damn."

Brett, after attempting to tell him about the several art galleries on Washington Blvd.: "You are really confusing me. I know all about the art museum and it is not on this street. Are you lost? Isn't art your job?"

Man really, really picking his nose on I-70. Man was, surprisingly, not my father.

And much to my art historian's utter delight, Daniel, eyes up on Grand Blvd.: "Copper! Mom, they know how to use copper on buildings here!"