Driving home from Indianapolis this afternoon, we introduced our small son to “Twenty Questions” as a means to delay the inevitable “Why aren’t we there yet? How many more miles to Boone Grove?” repeated as a one-boy Greek chorus. It was Dad’s turn to think of something, and he had done so. We had ascertained that he was thinking of a real person, and then that the mystery individual was an adult woman who spent most of her day in Boone Grove. Our son’s next question was “Does she take charge?” Dad said yes, whereupon our boychick reached over the back of the front seat, patted my hair gently and said “It must be you, Mom.”
Busted!!!