On the way home from our shopping jaunt, the mother was fumbling in the dark of the car, looking for a CD. She finally jammed one in.
"I hate to break this to you," says I as the CD began to play. "But that's MY CD you just put in." (We each have a CD in the car, burned special by me.) The fumbling begins anew.
"So where's MY CD?" barks the mother. "It WAS here."
It's there, I tell her. The fumbling and bitching continue. Finally, I can stand it no more and pull into the entrance of a cul-de-sac of a ritzy subdivision. I throw the car in park, flip the interior light on, and start digging. There's her Miles Davis CD. There's her Chris Botti CD. But the one I burned? Nowhere to be seen.
I'm overcome with terror as I realize what I think has happened: her CD already WAS IN THE PLAYER and then she PUT MINE IN OVER IT!
There are times I'd like to strangle the mother. (To be clear, I love my mother. I do. But, she can be difficult. And her issues with all things electronic is one of those things that lights my fuse.) And if there was ever a time I wanted to strangle her, it was right then as she insisted that she did not leave the CD in there to begin with. Then, it was somehow my fault. The restraint I exercised this evening is nothing short of legendary.
It was a long drive home.
But it would be the Internet that would be my salvation. And a lovely little site called howtomendit.com with this answer. I was afraid to try it at first, but I knew I'd not have any peace until I tried.
Oh. My. God. AND IT WORKED!
And I didn't have to go to prison.