On the way to my doctor's appointment on Wednesday, I called Richard.
We were planning to meet at the Fleet Farm on highway 36 to park his car and then ride together.
"I'm out of gas," I said. "Are you almost there?"
He said, "Yeah, I'm pulling in now."
"Cool--will you watch for me and then pump my gas for me so I don't have to do it?"
"Right there in front of all those people?"
3 comments:
That is the one good thing about NJ. Full service gas stations.
I think that's a fair trade-off. You carry the baby, he pumps the gas. :o)
Tell him he can leave his pants on this time.
Boys!
;)
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