license plates: an obsession

I used to poke fun at the moms who hung out in our parking lot. Why would anyone want to spend a significant part of the day on some asphalt? Then I had a toddler. And then I had another baby to make our apartment seem even more teeny tiny. So now the idea of hanging out in the parking lot holds a sense of intrigue. Adventure. Freedom. For Silas, it means going around to every single car and identifying every single letter and every single number on every single license plate. Multiple times. To each his own.