Yesterday on my way to the lake for some spring bass fishing/carp-shoot scouting, I needed some extra cash. And as usual, I couldn't remember my bank drive-thru ATM security code for the life of me. And because my wife (the smart one) wasn't in the truck, I had to do without.
When I think of all the codes and passwords I have to remember, it's amazing I'm ever able to start up my computer, open my garage door, answer my dumbphone, or for that matter, get the door of my Ford F150 opened using the touchpad on the door.
I swear this is true: I remember my oldest son's birth year (2002) because Derek Jeter (his favorite player) wears No. 2 for the Yankees. And I remember my youngest son's birth year (2005) because one of his favorite players, Michael Cuddyer, wore No. 5 when Cuddy was with the Minnesota Twins.
My wife once asked me, "Wouldn't it be easier to simply remember the year the kids were born?"
She obviously doesn't understand the mind of a male.
I'm writing about this for no other reason than to set up the photo below. A hunting buddy of mine shared it with me via Facebook because he'd heard about my ATM trouble yesterday.
And like they say, with friends like that, who needs enemies?!