This morning, as we are approaching the Corinth Canal, I lovingly go up to my husband and say, “I am not nagging, and I’m not scared, but can you please make sure we have enough gas in the tank we are currently drawing from to make it all the way through the canal? It would be just like Murphy to have us run out in the middle.”
I get “The Look”. Ladies, you know the one….
3 hours later in the abso&)@$@@)&;lutely middle of the canal, the engine starts to sputter. “Debbie. Get back here. Steer straight down the middle of the canal!” (Like there’s anywhere else to go on a 15 foot wide boat in a 25 ft wide canal…). Jim runs forward,(rrrr, sputter,rrrr) grabs a gas can, (sputter), starts pouring diesel into the tank, (sput, sput) pours more diesel (sput, rrrrrr, sputter, RRRRRRR). Jim looks at me with a shit eating grin…..
What can I say. He’s mine. I love him. I can’t beat him. But, Jim. Check the checking account. I have transferred $100 each into Chris and Pat’s accounts!