So Brainiac has this new GPS thing. I wasn't exactly what you'd call supportive of the purchase but instead of arguing or getting all logicky with him ("But, honey, we don't actually go new places" or "But, honey, our own home can't even be found with the device so how much utility could it actually have?") I decided to just keep my mouth shut and let the poor man follow his geosynchronous bliss.
Shows what great ideas I have.
There is now a little black box perched on my car's dash. The kids have named the little black box Mrs. Ashi (yes, the box gets an honorific. me? I am almost always referred to as "she") and I am NOT allowed to speak over her clipped guidance. In case it's not clear, let me spell it out: Mrs. Ashi is allowed to speak her piece while I am routinely talked over and argued with. And! The Boy knows enough about maps and direction in general (plus, we do go to the same places over and over again) to know when I am not doing what Mrs. Ashi has instructed me to do and he is vocal in his dismay. It's humiliating. Of course, if I could get anywhere without being lost perhaps I wouldn't be in this situation.
It's not really my fault, though. I live in a place where, within just a few miles of my house, one can find the following roads: Valley, Old Valley, North Valley, Valley Hill, Valley Creek, Valley Forge, Old Valley Forge, South Valley, Valley Park and Orchard Valley. A little farther afield we can find even more variations on this theme (and, by the way, type "valley" enough and it stops looking right). How on earth is anyone supposed to have any directional sense in such an environment is completely beyond me.
The rest of the family is devoted to Mrs. Ashi even as I question her utility so I am trying to be welcoming. I suspect that if Mrs. Ashi were to develop opposable thumbs, an interest in marathon sessions of Shoots and Ladders and learned how to order a pizza I might be replaced altogether.