I. hate. getting. gas. I hate everything about it. The smell, the $60 missing from my debit account, the inconvenient waste of 10 minutes of my life to get to the gas station. My biggest pet peeve.
So my hunny steps up to the plate and usually gets my gas. I run my car to 5 or so miles left on the tank and gleefully offer him my keys out for a night with the boys or to run errands. (Sneaky, eh?)
Tonight, we stopped for frozen yogurt after we were out to dinner and I casually mention that we may not make it home without getting gas. So, I let him drive and we stop at a gas station on the way home and as he is pulling in he asks which side my tank is on again. "Um. I honestly don't know." Shows how often I get gas :)