Honk The Horn
From Brooklyn, I was driving up to Westchester to pick up my daughter. Along the way I suddenly realized I had forgotten my phone. I felt lost. It was 5 degrees out. I couldn’t help but think, this will be the day my car breaks down on the Deegan.
When I arrived at the house I honked the horn to let her know I was out front. You should have seen the quizzical look on her beautiful 16-year-old face when she walked out the door. It was a means of communication she had not witnessed before. Maybe I will beat a drum or send out smoke signals next time.
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