Over and Under

Generally, when my husband takes my car and the gas gauge is sitting below the halfway mark, he fills it up for me.

Awww, that’s sweet.

I know.

So, on Monday, when we switched vehicles so that I could have tires replaced on the truck, I knew the gas gauge on the car was sitting well below the halfway mark. And, because I assumed he would fill my tank, I stopped on my way home and filled his.

Awww, that’s sweet.

I know.

Except, of course, that on Tuesday, I climbed into a car that was on empty, requiring that I coast into a gas station on fumes.

Well, maybe I’m exaggerating. But the tank was definitely on the last dregs of gasoline.

Then, on Wednesday, I went to lock the door with the keys my husband had returned to me along with the car, only to find my keys totally out of order.

Well, maybe I’m exaggerating. But one was definitely out of order.

“Your dad has me all confused,” I muttered to Younger, who had witnessed my earlier dismay over the empty tank, as we trudged through the yard towards the car. “The house key for the outside doors was always on the outside. It’s how I remembered which key was for which door. Now –” I rattled the keys in his direction– “the car key is on the outside and both the house keys are on the inside.”

Younger raised an eyebrow at me. “I think you are overthinking this, Mom.”

“Overthinking it?” I squeaked. “I tried to lock the door with the car key.”

“Well, maybe you are under-thinking it, then,” he granted, tossing his backpack into the back seat. “One way or another, you are not working at the correct thinking capacity.”

Yeah, marrying an engineer was a good plan.

Creating little miniature engineers with him was an even better one.

Apparently, I wasn’t working at the correct thinking capacity then either.


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