As a kid, I wanted to be invisible. I would pray to God that if he gave me the power of invisibility, then I would go to Sunday School for the rest of my life. (Looking back now, I am not sure how my going to Sunday School for the rest of my life would benefit God, but back then I thought it would.) Occasionally we had foggy weather in Toronto. Since God was taking his time answering my prayer, a fog was my chance to become invisible.
I stood in the fog in front of my house. I could still see myself, but the fog was dense up the street near my friend Keith’s house. I thought that I would be invisible in the dense fog; so I ran up the street and stood in front of Keith’s house. How disappointing! I could still see myself, but I understood why: the denseness of the fog had moved. It was front of my house.
I ran from Keith’s house back to my house. Darn! I could still see myself. The dense fog had moved back to Keith’s house. How come the fog was doing this? Why didn’t the fog leave its denseness in one spot? I kept running from my house to Keith’s house, and from Keith’s house back to my house — all the while missing the dense fog and remaining visible. After awhile, I got tired and went inside.
I always got a lot of exercise whenever we had a fog.