My wife insisted that our little boy, 7, learn guitar. His teacher is a 25-year-old guy. One day, my wife was sick, so I drove my son instead. He cried, and I told him he didn’t have to go. He turned and replied, “Mom says I have to cause I have talent like my dad.” Strange—I don’t play music.
Later, I decided to meet the teacher in private. I went to his house and was shocked to find traces of my wife everywhere. There was her favorite plant, lucky bamboo, sitting in a corner. The furniture was teal—her favorite color. He offered me her favorite drink, and on a chair, I spotted a satin scarf that looked just like one my wife owns. Could all of this really be a coincidence?
