Last Friday night, my son and I were reading his favorite book, “How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight?”.
It was 8:30 PM.
The doorbell rang.
I went downstairs and opened the door to find…a dinosaur…holding a business card and a flier.
He proceeded to ask me a series of very well-rehearsed open-ended questions.
It seems he was with the local dry cleaner.
And apparently they had fallen on very tough times.
They were facing extinction.
Some meteors had hit.
They were scared.
So they were knocking on doors, desperately seeking assistance.
But I couldn’t help the dinosaur.
Because he knew nothing about meteors.
So I told him I would call him later.
And teach him.