I've had a bipolar week, okay? Awesome happy high on Saturday, and THEN... yesterday. I was on my way to return the keg from the par-tay and go see my sister for dinner after work when I pulled out of the driveway and my car started smoking.
Of COURSE this would happen on a day that K is traveling for work. Fucking awesome.
I stopped the car, popped the hood (yes, I can make it through that much by myself) and called K, trying to keep my panic and yelling to a minimum.
Me: HELLO?? MY FUCKING CAR IS ON FIRE.
K (totally calm): What? Honey, calm down.
Me: HOW CAN I CALM DOWN?? MY CAR IS SMOKING. IN OUR DRIVEWAY.
K: Oh shit honey. Okay... where is the smoke coming from?
Me: THE HOOD!? HOW THE FUCK SHOULD I KNOW?
K: Where exactly? Can you tell?
Me: Under the giant black plastic thing!!
K: The valve cover?
K: Okay, well why don't you check the oil--just see if you need to put a little more in. You should be okay until I get home.
Me: Well how the fuck do I do that?? I'm already fucking late. This is so FUCKING STUPID.
K: You pull out the dipstick, it should say 'engine oil' on it.
Me: The yellow one?
K: I'm not sure. Does it say 'engine oil' on it?
Me: NO. It doesn't say ANYTHING.
K: Okay, well pull it out-- and let me know where the oil line is between 'FULL' and 'ADD'.
Me: It doesn't SAY add. It just says 'Min' and 'Max'
K: Um... okay. Well where is the line at?
Me: I don't know! It's in between!
K: Are you sure you're checking the right dipstick?
Me: How many fucking dipsticks are there??
K: Well it should say 'engine oil' on it.
Me: WELL IT DOESN'T.
(long pause as I survey the hood...)
Me: (sheepishly) Wait. I found another one.
K: Does it say 'engine oil' on it?
K (patiently, resisiting the urge to say "I told you so"): Okay. Well pull that one out.
Me: It's at 'Add'
K: Okay, well you just need to add a little bit of oil and then you should be okay until I get home.
Me: (freaking out) WHAT? I don't know how the hell to do that!! What the FUCK, THIS IS SO STUPID. I FUCKING HATE THIS. I'M ALREADY LATE, AND NOW I JUST SHOULDN'T GO.
K: Honey, you can do this--it will only take a minute.
Me: I HATE THIS!! FINE! WHAT DO I DO?
K: Okay, the first step is... go upstairs.
Me: FOR WHAT?
K: Sit down at the kitchen table.
K: Grab a carebear, give it a hug.
Me: (starting to snicker)
K: You're not doing it, are you? I don't even think you're actually hugging a carebear.
Me: (finally cracks a smile) Fiiiiine. You know, you're the only person who can actually calm me down after a mood like that, right? I was like Home Depot Crabby times ten.
K: Well it's not easy to do.. but I try.
And there it is, folks. The Husband Test. To see if your boyfriend will make a good husband someday and figure out how to get you out of a Home Depot angry mood while you are screaming at him. K passed with flying colors, he knows carebears are my weakness.