Tuesday, April 26
Me: What do you do with my seat belt?
Me: My seat belt. It's completely twisted around and the fuzzy shoulder thing is backward. It's next to impossible to intentionally adjust that fuzzy shoulder thing, so how do you do it?
Hubby: I don't know what you're talking about.
Me: I'm talking about the fact that you drove my car a total of 3 1/2 miles and managed to twist the seat belt into a mess.
Hubby: Just untwist it.
Me: I don't WANT to have to untwist it. I want to know what gyrations you go through to get it that way.
Hubby: I just put it on.
Me: No, that would be what normal drivers do. Normal drivers simply grab, pull and click. You apparently do some type of Swahili Safety Dance before driving away.
Hubby: If there was such a thing, you would be the one to do it. You even strap in the dog. Astronauts are less secured.
Me: And imagine if you hooked her in. We'd never get her untangled. Trapped in her own little doggie sarcophagus.
Hubby: You don't mean sarcophagus. More like a cocoon. Or The Wreck of the Hesperus.
Hubby: Hey, let's get the Buzz Aldrin harness and she can ride with me to Home Depot. I'll take your car.