My daughter was riding behind me on the scooter. “Now see,” I said looking over my shoulder at her on the moving bike. “You asked me if you were social, and see what you’re doing?”

“What?”

“We’re both on a scooter and we both like it but look what you’re doing. You are waving at everyone we see. You’re waving at cars, bikes, trikes and dogs. You’re a positive freak, this cannot be mistaken.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. So you’re back there waving at the public causing glee and what I am doing? I’m all focused here. I am my normal self,” I said, scooting down the street alongside the mall. “As always I think I am Snoopy on his doghouse, the Flying Ace! I have had myself mixed up with that dog my whole life so just think about it. You’re back there waving like you’re in some kind of parade. I’m going down the road with my goggles, thinking this is WW2 and I don’t know honey. Anyway you look at it, we’re both crazy.”

“We’re having fun.”

“True. So you go ahead and wave and leave me alone, would you? I’m going back to my job here. I have to drive the machine. I’m driving the doghouse – you wave.”

I heard her snort as I crouched down on the scooter to reduce wind resistance and gunned it.