and they let him fly airplanes.

I'm thinking maybe a perfect 800 on the verbal section of his SATs was a fluke. Same with graduating summa cum laude and in the top 1% of our college class.

Because really, he's not that smart.

He came home from work the other day a little out of breath and really, the walk from our drive way to front door is not much. I know he's skin and bones, but I kind of expect him to still be able to walk 10 feet without looking windblown.

Turns out Mr. Genius played the "gas game" and lost.
You know the Gas Game. As in, how long can you go with your gas light on before giving in and getting gas OR running out. The light came on when he was running errands for me, but he decided to play Kramer and see how far below the line he could go. This meant driving his hour commute to work in rush hour, and, well, he didn't quite make it home.

That's his VW at the end of our street.
Our house is about 5 doors down.
So. Close.

I wee'd myself with happiness when he came home and told me. Responsible Chuck had run out of gas. Hallelujah. I think (no, I know) this is the only day in our marriage where I wasn't the least mature person. It was a March Miracle.

Truth be told, Chuck plays the Gas Game all the time and it drives me crazy. I hate it. This was such a win for me, I had to gloat. I did the obligatory "I told you so" and the ever popular "I hope you've learned a lesson."

He said he did.
He said "Next time, I'll coast more. Imagine how much farther I could have gone."


  1. As long as he's not playing the gas game while flying airplanes, play away.

  2. You should have known it would have to happen sooner or later. I guess this lets Nan off the hook!! Grandpa-man said way to go"Nutty Professor" :-)


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