Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Is that a hamburger in the glove compartment? Cheeseburger, cheeseburger.
Needless to say we are working on our communication. I can't tell you how many times I put something in its place only to come back to that place and find it missing. Apparently it was not the girl's place...which, was somewhere else, I could never find.
Like a hamburger in the glove compartment. Cheeseburger, cheeseburger.
I'm mean car camping comes with its limitations. Mostly space. And nothing drives me nuts like trying to find something in a car packed with gear and gadgets. Try coupling that with the complications of a couple. And then try to find something you thought you put...in the glove compartment.
No, it wasn't a hamburger. Say cheese.
The first rule of marriage is: your way is not necessarily wrong, it's just probably not the best way...and will soon cease to exist. Second, your preference will probably not be hers so get over it. Third try not to make the girl cry. I still have a long way to go.
But I now know where to find the hamburger, I mean if you ever need a two day old fair burger. And chances are...you won't.