I called Number One Son to find out where he was. He had spent the night in Grand Island, Nebraska, on his way home. When he answered his phone, the reception was terrible, so I just told him to call me later and hung up.
Right about supper time my phone rang. The reception was perfect. He said, "It is 1855 miles from the door of my apartment in Las Vegas to the door to your apartment."
I'm so glad he is home.
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