It's a Small, Random World

This morning, I dropped off my mom-mobile at our friend's repair shop for the second time in 6 months for body work resulting from other people bumping into us. At least this time, we have no insurance worries from the other motorist, as said motorist is my cousin. That is a story for another time (love ya, Cuz!).

While we were there, and as Sabrina was casually rearranging the entire office, said friend John and I were chatting about our kids and school and kindergarten (as you do), when something clicked in his head. He walked over to his partner's office to ask him where his wife taught school, allegedly in our fair little suburb. Turns out his wife is the diagnostician that worked with Sammy just last week, whom he subsequently adores and mentions on a daily basis.

Now, mind you, the repair shop is a good 10-15 miles away from our house (I'm willing to travel because I trust these guys, and what are the chances you can say that about a mechanic found in the phone book?), so I was surprised to find anyone who knew where our town is located, much less someone whose lovely wife is employed there.

And while this has no consequence on my day, your day, or anything else, it was kind of fun to have completely random degrees of separation slam into each other that way. And it gave me something to write, and now my mom can be happy.