An elderly man named Arthur is driving his wife, Mabel, to the grocery store. He approaches a stop sign, slows down, looks both ways, and then drives right through it.
Mabel, sitting in the passenger seat, doesn’t say a word.
A few blocks later, Arthur does the exact same thing at another stop sign. He slows, he looks, and he proceeds without stopping. Again, Mabel remains silent, staring straight ahead.
They continue on, and he runs a third stop sign. This time, Mabel turns to him, her face a mask of concern.
“Arthur, for heaven’s sake, what are you doing?” she asks, her voice trembling slightly. “You’re going to get us killed!”
Arthur looks over at her, genuinely confused. “What are you talking about, Mabel?”
She points a shaky finger back down the road. “You just ran three stop signs in a row!”
Arthur grips the steering wheel and lets out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness,” he says. “I thought I was driving.”