Today I had to meet my mom at an attorney's office to sign some papers. In the conference room were me, my mom, a nice couple buying a house from us and the attorney who happened to be a guy I also went to high school with.
The attorney, who-happened-to-be-a-guy-I-also-went-to-high-school-with, was being very professional and lawyerly while my mom and the couple had on their best be-nice-to-strangers faces. I was fifteen minutes late getting to the meeting because I couldn't find the office so, although I had on my be-nice-to-strangers face, inside my adrenaline was pumping.
As the attorney, w-h-t-b-a-g-I-a-w-t-h-s-w, was explaining all the deeds and whatnot to the nice couple, my mind wandered here and there and yon until I was shaken back to reality when I heard him say, "...there have never been any toxic dumps on the property."
The house my mom and I were selling was the house my aunt and her family had lived in for about twenty years. I wrestled with my adrenaline addled brain and rapidly loosening tongue and it took every fiber of my being to not say, "I bet Uncle Robert left a couple of toxic dumps there."