Driving To The Only Reasonable Conclusion

(For about six months after an accident, my husband and I have one car, forcing a lot of coordination between our schedules. For the most part, this is fine because we both work from home, most of our outings are with mutual friends, and we usually go grocery shopping together anyway. One night, he is crawling in bed when this conversation occurs:)

Me: “How’s your project going?”

Husband: “I need to go to the hardware store tomorrow to finish it.”

Me: “Okay. Just remember, I need the car at 3:00 for a doctor’s appointment.”

Husband: “Okay. I’ll just go in the morning, then.”

(The next morning, he’s working on his project in the basement. I ask when he wants to go to the hardware store and he shrugs. I go back to my work, thinking he’ll come up shortly. Around 2:00 I hear him coming up the stairs.)

Husband: “Okay. I’m gonna get my shower and then head to the hardware store. Do you need anything?”

Me: “Uh… the car?”

Husband: “What? Why? I told you I need to go to the hardware store today. What are you doing?”

Me: “Going to the doctor.”

Husband: “Since when?”

Me: “Since I set the appointment six months ago. It’s a checkup.”

Husband: “You never told me about this! Now I have to wait longer?”

Me: “Or you could have gone this morning, like you said you would last night, or you can come along and take the car while I’m at the doctor’s office and pick me up after.”

Husband: “They’re not in the same part of town. That’s not— This is ridiculous.”

Me: *deadpan* “Yes. Yes, it is. If only we had already talked about this at a previous time, like last night getting into bed.”

Husband: “Well, I— Oh. We did.”

Me: “Mmhmm.”

Husband: “And I forgot.”

Me: “Mmhmm.”

Husband: “So, I guess I’ll drive you?”

Me: *kisses him on the cheek* “Thank you, darling.”