it's the little things. like having a gas tank right next to empty that you've been meaning to fill for two days but haven't because it's too dark, too cold, too whatever and then the realization that you're probably not going to make it home on what you've got so pull into gas station, pop open the tank, reach for credit card, think 'where's my wallet', madly search for wallet. no wallet. back to work. considering plan b...
Ready to hear what I came up with for my plan b? Call my husband and ask him to drive to my office, trade cars, and go fill my tank, and then launch a full-scale search for my missing wallet. You know what he says? Nope, not any of the snippy, somewhat put out replies I surely would have given him. Not even any good natured razzing. Nope. He says: "Sure, I'll be over sometime this afternoon."
Poor guy doesn't have a cynical bone in his body.
And... to make me feel like even more of a schmuck my wallet was safely tucked away in the diaper bag we took to the science museum on Saturday. Apparently I don't get out much because I was without it for 3 days and didn't miss it one bit.
3 comments:
Your husband is a rock star!
>>>>Poor guy doesn't have a cynical bone in his body.<<<<
Unless I put one there.
(Is that gay?)
1. we like yer hubby. he's a good egg.
2. i've done the wallet/diaper bag thing...too many times to recall
3. i like the smell of gas and was bummed when those black smell-guards were installed
4. i have more than enuf cynicism to cover yer hubby's lack thereof
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