When I go running up in Roosevelt, Minnesota, usually I just go north up Rocky Point Road until I get tired and then turn around and go back home. It's a pretty boring route, with nothing much to look at except expanses of gorgeous farmland and skies broad and blue. These days it's pretty cold up there and so I get all strapped down with loads of clothes.
The other day I went for my run and when I got up near the Ravendahlen place -- one of two houses that I pass along my route -- I noticed that a woman was knocking on the door. (In small towns you sort of get in everybody's business. 'I wonder who's visiting Mrs. Ravendahlen? At this hour?') I waved. She waved back. Then I could feel her looking at me, even though she was about 100 yards away. She started walking towards me waving her arms. She was yelling something. I popped my earbud out of my ear.
I yelled, "Hi?" Because she was behaving really strangely.
"Oh!!! I thought you were my Graaaand-SON!"
(She had been yelling, "Ricky! Ricky!!")