If you have read my two posts, An Incompetent Mother and A REALLY Incompetent Mother, you know that I have an incredible memory and ability to follow directions. But did you also know that I have a superb sense of direction, and my attention to detail is astounding. But here are just two more of the many examples of my brilliance, just in case you still need convincing.
The other day I was driving my husbands BRAND NEW car (our first brand new car ever). Don’t worry, I didn’t get in an accident or anything. But I was driving it and I noticed that the little light next to the gas meter was on. It appeared that the tank was only 1/4 of a tank full so I decided to be a good wife and fill up his car for him.
At the gas station I put about $3 of gas in when the pump automatically shut off. So I tried again and it immediately shut off again. I pulled the nozzle out of the tank, gas spilling from it as I hung it up, reswiped my card and tried again. This time it only let me put 87 cents in before shutting off. Knowing that this was not nearly enough gas for the almost empty car, and thinking there must be something wrong with that particular pump, I went to another pump and swiped my card again. This time it didn’t let me, saying I needed to see the cashier. I guess I had used my card too many times in one place. I went to the cashier and put $50 (that’s how much it cost to fill up Hubby’s old car) on pump #9. Again, it only let me put in a few dollars before shutting off so I just kept pulling the trigger over and over again while it kept shutting off over and over again and I was getting more and more frustrated all the time. At this point I started to think that there was something wrong with the car itself so I called Hubby and explained the situation.
“What?” he said, “I just filled the car up yesterday.”
“Well it only has 1/4 of a tank now.”
My mind reeled as I tried to think about why the car would be out of gas so soon. We had hardly driven it the past day. Could the tank be leaking gas?
“How much does it say it has now?” he asked.
I turned on the car to check the meter and saw that now it was completely EMPTY! How was that possible?! Wait. Was that an E or an F? It was an F. The E and the F were in the wrong places! In our others cars it was the other way around! It was backwards, dangit!
“Your car’s gas meter is backwards!” I yelled into the phone.
“It’s full, bye,” I said and hung up.
Both furious and humiliated, I stomped into the gas station to get the rest of the $50 put back on my card.
“So that’s $47.63 back on your card?” the cashier said/asked.
“Uh yeah.” I breathed.
Back at the ranch, Hubby was grumpy about me spilling gasoline on his brand new car.
“It ruins the paint,” he said.
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”
“You’ve never seen cars with faded paint right under the gas tank?”
“How about on OUR cars?”
He just went outside and washed the area under the gas tank.
By the way the little light that I thought was the gas light was really the tire pressure light. Uh yeah. Attention to detail.
The very next day I was at the lake going for a run. When I was finished I went over to Hubby’s school (which is right by the lake) to get something he needed from his office. When I got there I called him to walk me through the steps of turning off the security alarm. He gave me the code and I was poised and ready, keys in hand, to open the door and enter the code before the alarm went off. Josh’s old school had a clear plastic box on the wall that you would lift and there would be the keypad.
As I peered through the glass of the doors, I saw a plastic box on the wall to my left. “OK, here I go,” I said. I turned the key and made a beeline for that plastic box. I lifted the box. It came completely off and immediately an alarm started sounding. I looked around for the keypad and it wasn’t there! At that point I realized that the box I had pulled of was a fire alarm. Like I said, attention to detail.
“Where’s the keypad?!?!?!” I yelled to Josh, who was still on the phone.
“It’s on the wall on the right.”
“OH, on the RIGHT!”
So I ran to the right, punched the code into the keypad (that wasn’t inside a plastic box, by the way) and ran back over to the fire alarm.
“how do you turn this off?” I yelled.
“The fire alarm.”
“How is the fire alarm going off?”
“I pulled a plastic box off the wall and the fire alarm started going off.”
“YOU PULLED THE FIRE ALARM?!?!?!”
“Yes, on accident!”
I looked through the buttons on the fire alarm panel and found one that said “disarm” and one that said “reset”. I pushed them both and put the cover back on and the alarm stopped. But there was still a light on next to the word “trouble” so I was afraid the fire department was going to come check on the school. After much inward debate, and unable to face the embarrassment of having to explain why the fire alarm went off when there was no fire and I was the only one here (I don’t even work here!) I decided to leave. Luckily the fire department never came and on Monday the maintenance crew fixed the alarm and everything was hunky-dory.
Except for my ego. Although it’s amazing I have any left.