Asking Mom whether it would be okay to open a garlicky pasta leftover container in the car, her replying, affirmatively, “That’s a good stink.”
Singing my greatest creation: a “Sweet Child o’ Mine” / “Sweet Caroline” mash-up.
Eating at Waffle House, a special occasion for us Chicagoans. Loving it and marveling at the behind-the-counter servers’ lane, a clever combination of fast-foodiness and normal-restaurant service. Hearing Tame Impala on the jukebox.
Mom remembering that when websites “came out” in the ‘90s, people said “point com” before they learned (decided?) it was “dot com.”