This was actually a few days ago as dentists rarely have office visits on Sundays and I certainly don’t work on Sundays. Hardly ever. 

We’re down to one working vehicle. The back up car has been dead in the driveway for two months now.

Since Randy works from home, this is mostly okay. Every once in a while, however, we both need the car. Today for instance.

Our baby boy has a dentist appointment today, so Randy needs the car to get him there. I go home for lunch every day and the way it works is Randy drives me back to work, runs our kid errand and then picks me up in the evening.

On the drive back to work after lunch today, we were having the normal type of conversation that husbands and wives have. Or at least normal if you are me.

Me: I spit toothpaste in my hair this morning.

Randy: You’re kind of dumb that way.

Me: …

Randy: It’s always iffy for me to say something like to you. I’m never sure how you’re going to react.

In all fairness to Randy, I never hesitate to say similar things to him. As it were, I was kind of tired after lunch and decided to cut him a break. 

Until we got to the exit.

There are two lanes at the exit you have to take to get to my work. The logical lane to be in is the right lane. However, big trucks are often in that lane and it’s on a slight incline, so you’re going to wait for a million years while they go from ‘stopped’ to ‘very slow and maddening crawl’.

Me: Get in the left lane. We’re going to be here forever.

Randy: No. I’m driving. I’m in control.

Me: You make me crazy.

Randy: Why is it you always worry about how fast you’re going to get back to work when I’M driving, but you don’t worry about it when you are.

Okay..there are so many things wrong with that. First of all, I ALWAYS go around the big trucks, so OBVIOUSLY I AM TOO getting back to work as quickly as possible. Secondly, how the fuck would he know? He’s not even fucking with me if I’m driving back alone.

Me: incoherent sputtering. 

Randy: At least I don’t have toothpaste in my hair.