On the way home from work last Friday, Second Born asked me which route I would take to drive from little old MK to the sprawling megatropolis that is the village of Fillongley in Warwickshire. She was planning a trip to visit a friend, and being a wee bit geographically-challenged, was keen to seek her dad's wisdom (no, I don't believe it, either).
I replied that I'd probably go up the M1, then along the M6 to the appropriate junction and wing it from there.
Second Born confirmed that the internet pretty much agreed with me, but there were just too many little roads to worry about between the M6 and Fillongley. Therefore, she was contemplating driving up the A5 instead and picking up a B road that would speed her to her destination.
"It's a good plan, " I said, "because ease of navigation is as much part of the selection process as the time taken for the journey." And yes, I really did say that. Jings, I'm such a dad, at times.
After a few minutes silence and conscious of Second Born's ability to become lost in the most familiar of environments, I asked if she would like a satnav for her birthday.
"Good grief, no," she replied, "I don't want to go down that road."