You all look alike to me

For anyone who thinks I exaggerate about just how hippy-dippy Portland is, I offer this story ...

This morning on my way to work, I dropped the entire happy family off at their respective destinations. Last on my list was TheGirl. I pulled our happy blue Subaru into the day care parking lot, got her out of the car seat without bumping her head on the ceiling -- a rarity -- and didn't even bother to lock the door because I knew it would only take a few minutes.

Sure enough, five minutes later I was back in the parking lot. I opened the car door and was sliding into the front seat, when -- WAWAWAWAWAWA -- the car alarm nearly busted the eardrums of anyone within a half-mile radius, including the three Kinko's employees standing across the lot on their cigarette break and the day care workers watching over the older kids on the playground.

It took me longer than it's probably taken you to figure out the deal: This was a blue Subaru, yes, same year, same model, right down to the coffee cup in the front floorboard and the two car seats in the back. But it wasn't my Subaru. (I didn't stop to see if they had the same Dar Williams CD in the player, but I have my suspicions.)

Our car was parked two spaces over, a walk that felt a lot longer than usual given the many, many people who were watching, and laughing. Because I am a moron of the highest order.