One thing we're both getting used to is that every decision/careless non-decision we make affects the other person. For example, maybe you're like me and tend to leave half-consumed glasses of water around the house despite your greatest attempts to the contrary. (Hey, I'm not proud of this, but when aliens attack, I have my tin foil hat and weaponry ready). Well, in a van, the cups will inevitably get knocked to the floor usually drenching a pillow, the rug, a magazine or really anything within arm's reach. But don't worry, we are not alone in this tomfoolery. Luke over here undresses like a teenager at Summer camp about to skinny dip for the first time: jeans spread all over the floor, both pant legs yanked inside out, keys still dangling off the pant rings. In this square footage, the jeans of a grown man might as well be a parachute the way they grab my ankles as I walk by.
