Who woulda thought my hubby would ever run low on gas?
We have a fairly constant mock battle going on in my household about when the car needs gas. For me, I always fill up when Esmerelda hits the quarter tank marker. For Earl, it's when the "Warning, your car is running on an eyedropper and fumes" light comes on.
See, it's one of my goals in life to never make my car put warning lights on for any reason. In my experience, the warning light means "Pay your mechanic $1,200. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200." For Earl, the light coming on is just a sweet little reminder that he actually needs to do something and there is a time limit. I wonder if he views my nagging in the same light?
I was driving his car home last night and, since the marker was just a hair under a quarter of a tank, I stopped for gas. When I told Earl, he rolled his eyes at me. Really. So funny that a man who proclaims himself a Ph.D. in wind instruments would deprive his car the same abundance. Just another quirk I love.
He drove my car home last night. This morning, the marker is just a hair over empty.
I literally felt a twinge of panic, so it made me think: Why am I so obsessive about gas? I vaguely remember hearing an old mechanic's tale somewhere that it is better for your car to never let it run under a quarter of a tank. But really, I am motivated by two reasons: 1)I would be mortally embarrassed if I ever got stranded somewhere because I ran out of gas; and 2) I have a legen-wait for it-dary bad sense of direction. I can usually navigate my way around without the frantic call for directions, but it might take me an extra 50 miles or so. Whenever I get lost, having a full tank of gas is like having a warm, cozy security blanket hand knitted just for me by Chevron (with Techron!).
Hopefully, that's just another quirk he loves.
See, it's one of my goals in life to never make my car put warning lights on for any reason. In my experience, the warning light means "Pay your mechanic $1,200. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200." For Earl, the light coming on is just a sweet little reminder that he actually needs to do something and there is a time limit. I wonder if he views my nagging in the same light?
I was driving his car home last night and, since the marker was just a hair under a quarter of a tank, I stopped for gas. When I told Earl, he rolled his eyes at me. Really. So funny that a man who proclaims himself a Ph.D. in wind instruments would deprive his car the same abundance. Just another quirk I love.
He drove my car home last night. This morning, the marker is just a hair over empty.
I literally felt a twinge of panic, so it made me think: Why am I so obsessive about gas? I vaguely remember hearing an old mechanic's tale somewhere that it is better for your car to never let it run under a quarter of a tank. But really, I am motivated by two reasons: 1)I would be mortally embarrassed if I ever got stranded somewhere because I ran out of gas; and 2) I have a legen-wait for it-dary bad sense of direction. I can usually navigate my way around without the frantic call for directions, but it might take me an extra 50 miles or so. Whenever I get lost, having a full tank of gas is like having a warm, cozy security blanket hand knitted just for me by Chevron (with Techron!).
Hopefully, that's just another quirk he loves.