We went to fill my truck up last night, on our way to Sams, because it was on empty. Mr. H decided to calculate the mileage achieved on the most recent tank of gas since he was the driver of the vehicle during our trip to Oklahoma and back.
Mr. H: “hmmmm a little over 19 miles to the gallon”
Mr. H: “Did you ever calculate your mileage from your Alabama trip?”
Me: “Yep”
Mr. H: “Was it better than 19 mpg”
Me: “Yep”
Mr. H: “Figures”
Me: “Yep, you drive nuttier than I do”
Mr. H: “No I don’t. NO ONE drives nuttier than you do!”
Me: “Yes you do! You have nuts and I don’t so you drive nuttier than I do”
Mr. H: “I’m sorry folks but Mr. H doesn’t have any nuts, his wife has them and occasionally she lets him have them back to play with”
Me: “Whatever! Your wife doesn’t have your nuts you do and Mr. Rosy Palm is perfect familiar with your nuts”
Mr. H: “Oh! What are you saying? You just had to get ugly and start slinging mud like that didn’t you?”
Just then we hear giggling emanate from the back seat. Oh shit, we are going to have to start watching what we are saying.
