As I sat here tonight, I was trying to figure out why it seems that all four of our kids and I routinely take the Strassenbahn. We also take trains, S-Bahns and the other various modes of public transportation. We even know how to take the bus, although, since we live on the 23&24 streetcar lines, we normally don’t bother with buses.

Specifically, we don’t take cabs and most of the time we don’t expect to get picked up or dropped off.

I take that back – various assorted commuting off spring over the years have had the expectation that someone (?) was going to bail them out of the train station on Friday afternoons. Being a parent, well it falls into my job description.

After having spent most of the day on various sewing related tasks (different fabric, laying out patterns, cutting out patterns, fixing the serger and hemming table clothes), I was busy when the DH called. Something about his train was going to be five minutes late. Ok, he is coming back from Switzerland and I can stop and pick him up. Not sure why he called again since we had already set a time but hey – he is on the train and has a phone. Nuf said.

Turns out the board was empty when he reached Mannheim and he was worried that there was not going to be a way from Mannheim to Heidelberg (see bus comment above) but then the departures board flashed three trains all 30-90 minutes late going to Karlsruhe via Heidelberg so he was all set.

I pick him up, barely having time to read 10 pages of the latest Margaret Maron’s Deborah Knott’s Mystery. I start toward the house, and he asks to be dropped at his Stammtisch. Admittedly, I know it is Thursday evening and this group of guys has been getting together on Thursday evenings since the youngest three were in kindergarten. Ok, why not? I can drive from home, pick him up, drop him off and go back home.

See comment about buses – the bus runs right from the train station past Bismark Platz and turns in at the Uni Platz. That is only two blocks from Kornmarkt and the Greek Restaurant where they meet. Muttering to myself, I drive the loop, head back home, haul the suitcase and brief case to his office and go back to the sewing machine.

Two hours later, he walks into the studio. After a useful discussion about needing a shopping run in the morning (toilet paper would be really nice to have) I ask him about buses. He claims to ride the bus all the time in Switzerland; one of the few in his office who regularly uses public transportation.

But tonight? Why me? I was perfectly happy here at home, not out in the rain, not out driving in the rain. So I pick you up, take you somewhere else and then come home. You could have taken the bus. For that matter, you could have taken a cab.

He just looks at me.

Sweetie, I never would have asked you to do that. You suggested it last week, said you would be glad to make sure that I got to the Stammtisch. Don’t you remember?

Oh.