bye-bye mister car

My friend Giorgio has a son, Fabrizio. The kid is 2, 2.5 I think - I'm a bit vague about the ages of children, but he doesn't have a motorbike, girlfriend, or obvious piercing yet so he must be youngish. I get a ride to work with Giorgio ever since work moved from point A (right by home) to point B (right beyond the horizon), and often Fabrizio tags along to go to playschool. Like Ford Prefect in the Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, I suspect Fabrizio has worked out which is the dominant life-form on this planet. When we reach his stop and his dad tries to convince him to bid me fond farewell - "Saluti zio Paul?" - Fabrizio instead says he wants to say goodbye to the car. Every time. That kid will go far. I for one welcome our automotive overlords. This all goes to show that my wife Noémi should really start blogging. Noémi, look what happens when you leave the blogging up to me! Nostalgic reminisces about the morning commute, obscure references to minor characters in nerd literature, slashdot memes reverberating outward from the Simpsons! Won't someone please think of the children!