So glad I was able to keep my lip buttoned

Last weekend, as we were thisclose to drifting off to Dream Land, Chebbar sleepily whispered, "Honey, can I take the Mazda to work next week?"  I lay there, panicking, trying to figure out way to say no without saying no.  He went on, saying that he wanted to show is Dad (we ended up going to see his dad/show him the car the following day... lol) and Co-Worker, and pointed out that the car pooling would likely be a lot easier with the 4-door car.

"Just for this week," he pleaded.  I recovered (I hope) by saying OF COURSE he could take my the car.

I drove his car all week.  I was *so* looking forward to today because he's not working, so I would be able to drive the Mazda.  His car feels so... heavy; sluggish; boat-like; slow.  I wanted my zippy little car back -- I missed my baby!

Well.

Last night, as we were thisclose to drifting off to Dream Land, Chebbar sleepily whispered, "Honey, which car are you taking to work tomorrow?"  Again, I lay there, this time trying to ascertain what he was getting at.  "Which car do you want?" I hedged.  He went on to tell me that it didn't matter because he didn't need to leave the house today, but the car was on empty (as in, the little light was on empty *harrumph*). 

"I can put gas in it in the morning before you go," he offered.  I told him not to be silly, that I'd just take his car.  He said he knew I wanted to take the Mazda and that I hadn't driven it all week, saying what I was thinking when he stated that he should have put gas in the car before he came home yesterday.  I told him not ot worry about it and repeated the offer to take his car.

When I got up this morning (while he slept on), I was muttering under my breath about having to drive his car, snarking that he SHOULD have put gas in the damned Mazda before he came home, or at the very least told me BEFORE 10:30 at night so I had the option of filling it up.  I snark, snark, snarked to myself until my breakfast was ready, then sat down at the table with my tea and my book.  Halfway through my toast, I heard the bedroom door open.  He stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and smiled blearily at me as he proudly told me he was going to put gas in the car. 

Because I didn't want to show outwardly (although, that was likely a waste of time: he knows me so damned well, that I'm sure he knew how disappointed I was last night) how touched (and appreciative!) I was, I kept my "awwwwww!" to myself.  Again, I told him he didn't have to go put gas in the car (I play the martyr SO damned well, and without even realizing it most of the time *eye roll*) -- hell, I could get my ass in gear and leave a few minutes early so I could do it.  But out the door he went, seemingly happy to do this small thing that would make me happy.

He's good people.  And I love him.  And appreciate him.  And I'm so, so glad I didn't unleash the harpy on him.  ♥