“We’ll go on Saturday.”
You remember.
Saturday morning, you get dressed before anyone asks. You wait for someone to say it’s time to go.
Nobody does.
Around lunchtime, you ask, “Are we still going?”
“Going where?”
“You said we would.”
They think for a moment.
“Oh. Not today.”
Another time, it’s next weekend. Or after work. Or when things calm down.
You remember those too.
Sometimes you ask. Sometimes you just wait.