Tonight, however, I had a meeting with the Bishop. As I went to get in the car, my knees were shoved into my chest and I nearly lost my breath. Once again, the seat had not been pushed back to where a normal sized person could actually get into the car. This always makes me a little irritated, but no matter how many times I ask, Margaret never seems to think about it.
First, I don't understand how she can drive that close to the steering wheel. I know I'm taller than her, but it's not like she's that short. I think Timothy could reach the pedals with where she has the seat at.
Second, I don't know that she does (or ever will for that matter) have any idea how uncomfortable it is for me when I get in the car and this happens. She would probably tell you it's my fault for not checking before I get in the car, but I say that is nonsense. My friend Scott once told me that he broke his wife of this habit by leaving the toilet seat up everytime she didn't push the car seat back. I guarantee you that if Margaret fell in the toilet she would not say it was her fault, but would instead have it out with me.
As I was driving home, an hour later, my mind somehow wandered back to this incident, and I decided that I would have a talk with Margaret about this. That is until I walked in the house and there was pie. Not just any pie either, lemon meringue pie, which happens to be my favorite pie. Not only is it my favorite pie, but Margaret doesn't really like it, so when she makes it I know it is a special treat she made just for me.
So I ate the pie, and forgot about the seat. Moral of the story is I will just keep pushing the car seat back instead of leaving the toilet seat up (at least until we get a 2nd vehicle) because I love my wife that much. And if she keeps making pie, I may have to push it back just a little bit further.
