Oranges, Part 2

Earlier I mentioned that my husband and I get into silly disagreements over trivial things. Well, today is no exception. I went to the city today and ended up locking myself out of the car. Yes, I'm that dumb.

Regardless, I handled the situation in spite of a not-so-helpful Chicago cop and a guy who tried to slim jim my car using a wire hanger. Neither of them got me into the car, so I ended up calling for roadside assistance, who came to my rescue using an assortment of break-and-enter tools I'd never seen before.

You would think the story ends there, but allow me to vent for a minute.

I called my husband to tell him what was going on. Our conversation went something like this:
Me: "I locked myself out of the car. Don't worry, roadside assistance is coming to help. I just wanted to let you know what's going on."
Him: "Okay. I gotta run. The kiddo is acting up." Click.

A couple of minutes later, he called back.
Him: "Did you get into the car yet?"
Me: "No, not yet, but they just called and someone's coming soon."
Him: "So I don't have to go out to the city and rescue you?"
Me: "No."
Him: "Thank goodness. Okay. Bye."

At this point, I'm really feeling the love.

When I got home later in the afternoon, we wrapped up the conversation:
Him: "So did roadside assistance slim jim the car?"
Me: "No. Actually, someone did try to break in using a bent wire hanger, but that didn't work so that's when roadside assistance showed up."
Him: "What? NEVER, EVER, EVER let anyone ever do that. That can really mess up the mechanism of the power locks."
Me: "Um, it didn't mess it up."
Him: "It's just common sense. Don't let anyone do it again."

The best part? He just poked me on Facebook. As if that will make me want to speak to him right now.

-SM