Never has a day at home doing laundry been more welcome. Or welcome at all, really. I was ready for a normal day.
Late in the afternoon I went out to fill the car with gas. Next to laundry and grocery shopping it’s my least favorite chore but I’m a lot more disciplined about it than the other two.
A car pulled up to the pump opposite the one I was using. A woman in her eighties was driving. She opened the door, got out and went to the back of the car. Before she could remove the gas cap, the passenger door opened and a man got out. He worked his way around the back of the car. "Here, give me that," he reached for the pump handle. “Go get in the car. I’ll do this.” His tone was irritable but it seemed like it was more habit than heartfelt.
“Now why did you get out of the car? I’m already here,” she groused.
“I said I’ll do it. Go sit down. Stay warm.”
“Well, we’re both cold now.”
“Let me take care of my wife.”
Aww
"Oh, honestly." She let him have the pump and walked to the car door. Before she got in, though, she gave him a list of directions—pick the cheapest grade, don’t overpump and hurry up.
I laughed softly, my day totally made.
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