It’s probably also why I love cars so much

My Honey had an awful day. When I checked in with him in the afternoon, he lamented the magnitude of its crappiness.

When he woke up this morning the house was strewn with the contents of the kitchen garbage can. Thanks, dogs.  When he put his work boots on, he broke a shoelace. Next, his truck wouldn’t start so he jumped the battery with my car. On the way to work, he realized that his windshield was broken. Work sucked, which is a given considering that he was required to go there. When he got off work, the truck battery was dead – again. $77.00 later he had a new battery, but then he had to go to school – which is crappola after a long, hard day.

So you know what I did to prove that I’m a good wife? I made dinner. It was crap dinner (Ava comments – it was a crap dinner and, clearly, Amy is too embarrassed to even tell you what it was – but I’m not – she gave them Tuna Helper!  Tuna Helper for gods sake.) and he had to come to my rescue at the end because I forgot to include any kind of vegetable.

It concerns me that I require recognition for this feat. Honestly, I think I might have some male DNA somewhere in there because that bullshit is a “guy move” if ever there was one.

Do you do something that is clearly a move from the other DNA? Are you a man who turns mean once a month? Are you a woman like me who requires recognition for the littlest thing? Are you a guy into your hair or a woman who loves fast cars?