A warning light came on in my car alerting me to “low oil”. I drove it around like that for 3 days before I remembered to order my husband to do something about it.
I was gone all weekend in that car so he couldn’t take it in to get an oil change. He suggested I take the car into the shop on Monday morning. I went, reluctantly of course.
When I arrived at the dealership service department I starting texting him. Non stop. Honestly just between you and I, I was just trying to annoy him. And Make Sure He Knew I Wasn’t Happy To Be There.
I’m pretty sure he got the idea.
It didn’t take too long to get the oil changed at the dealership, the little’s were actually pretty fantastic while there. There was free donuts and coffee and I turned the lounge tv on to KCET for Peep and the Big Wide World, much to the other customers chagrin. I still texted my husband about how awful it was though. Even though it really wasn’t.
When we got on the freeway to go home there was traffic on the freeway going North. Where we live is pretty much in the middle of nowhere and there was no way to get around the traffic. Unfortunately someone died on the freeway and the freeway was shut down and traffic was diverted to the only street next to the freeway. The street that leads to our community. I sent my husband pictures of the traffic every 3 minutes. I was yelling at him via text and blaming him too.
I blamed him for having to get the oil changed in the car. I blamed him for having to sit in the traffic. I blamed him for having to pee. I blamed him for everything.
And that my friends, is why I would never want to be my husband.
You need to be waiting at the door for him wrapped in cellophane. You owe him.
blech.
LOL!