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.


My Sad Life

“Dad, if you fill a container with ice then fill all the empty space with water then seal the container then put the container in a freezer, will the water freeze?”

My forehead falling with a loud ka-thunk against the glass of the passenger side window, I peered into the darkness of the spring night, desperate to find anything that might interest me more than the conversation I knew was about to ensue.

Ignoring me, my husband answered Younger with a “Yup.”

“But what if the container is really strong? What if the container won’t allow the expansion? Won’t the pressure itself create heat and prevent the water from freezing?”

“Well, I suppose there would be some heat from the pressure. I suppose that would affect how much of the water froze.”

“Then could we make an ice bomb?”

Ka-thunk, ka-thunk, ka-thunk.

So, if you ever witness our little family travelling along the roadway and you notice my head bouncing rhythmically against the window, you can be assured the engineer and his prodigy are discussing math or science or some other such useless nonsense.

No one ever says, “Hey, Mom, I accidentally used a dangling participle the other day, and it was absolutely hilarious. ‘Wearing only my underwear, the bear spied me as I emerged from my tent.’ Get it? The bear wasn’t wearing my underwear. I was. We all laughed.”

I live a very sad life.