My wife - I love her, I really do. She’s the one who keeps this goofy dude in check. I’ve got to give her major props for putting up with all my annoying habits, weird smells, and my uncontrollable urge to splurge on guy gadgets I don’t really need. Interrogations about Cabela’s and Amazon purchases are practically a daily occurrence at my house. My go-to strategy? Play dumb and then make a hasty retreat to the basement!
On top of my impulse buys, she absolutely hates it when I don’t clean the microwave after something explodes. My hoodies are always on the floor, and those crumbs on the coffee table. Yeah, definitely not mine. Wink.
Another annoyance she has to put up with is my constant “man-vision” around the house. I’m sure you’re familiar… searching the cupboard for peanut butter, my eyes scanning, my frustration building. I yell out, “Where is the PEANUT BUTTER?!” She strolls over, takes one look at the second shelf, and boom, pulls out the giant tub of JIF that was apparently right in front of my face the whole time. She shoots me that “you’re hopeless” look and walks away. Whoops. Awkward.
Sure, she puts up with a lot from me, but it’s time to flip the script on my smooth-skinned lover. I’ve got my quirks, but they’re nothing compared to the ONE BIG thing she does that drives me absolutely insane.
Honey, we need to talk… why do you NEVER fill up your car with gas?
EVER!!
Look, here’s a gas pump. It’s not rocket science. You stick the nozzle in your tank and fill ‘er up. Simple, right?
Dudes reading this - are you with me? Does the amazing woman in your life just glide right past every gas station as if they don’t exist?
Survey says? YES!
I’ve asked my buddies, and it seems to be a nationwide epidemic. None of their wives or girlfriends fill up either! Parched gas tanks across the country are being ignored, all thanks to a blatant disregard for that little needle on the dash pointing straight to the giant E. Is it laziness? A lack of automotive knowledge? Or do they just think that little door on the side of their car is purely decorative?
I was always taught never to let the tank dip below a quarter, just in case of emergencies. What if you’re stuck in traffic, idling for hours? Or worse, trapped in one of our infamous Colorado snowstorms? You want that tank full—you need that fuel!
It’s especially frustrating on weekends when we load up the family for some fun, only to see her gas light glaring at me. Why not fill up on Friday after work? It takes 10 minutes and would save us from our weekly driveway argument—our nosy neighbors would thank us for the peace and quiet.
Maybe I’m overreacting, or maybe I’m just enabling her by always filling it up for her—because I’m a gentleman, of course. She’s probably set in her ways, and I might have to chalk this up to one of life’s big mysteries.
But just once, I wish I could start her car and see that needle pointing to F. Not for “FULL,” but for “FINALLY!”
Photography credit: Jeremy Padgett
