Shhh. I've got something to tell you about Dylan. Can you keep a secret? You can? Great. Here it is: he's really, stupidly lucky. I mean, beyond getting to be married to me of course; he'll never top that but he's lucky in the best way possible: finding parking spaces. (What? Where did you think I was going with that? Get your mind out of the gutter. Pervert.)
No kidding, the man has what I've termed to be the 'Lucky Parking Horseshoe'. He can find a parking spot close to whatever building he's going no matter how insane the lot. Case in point: when we were dating (or maybe engaged, anyway, we were together) we ventured to the local mall a few weeks before Christmas mid afternoon on a Saturday. We must have driven up and down and all around that parking garage for a good 20 minutes before he stops by the entrance to let me out. At that point I was ready to declare it a 'gift-free' Christmas but he tells me to go ahead and get started, we'd meet up in the first store in a bit. I got out, went into the mall and not 5 minutes later he comes walking up to me. Just after he'd let me out, a spot opened up right behind him. So he swung around like Evel Knievel and snagged it. Stuff like this happens all the time - the unifying theme is that I CAN'T BE IN THE CAR as I bring the worst parking luck.
The only mitigating thing is the kids and they're 50/50. We had to park about a mile away from the State Fair last summer but got a space right outside the movie theater a few weeks ago on a Saturday afternoon. With me though, it's a crap shoot. I've just pretty much given up at this point and park in BFE.
Eh, I needed to up my daily step count anyway.