Twenty-five Miles

My husband leaves notes on my desk all the time. Like, could you send someone email, or check on this or check on that.
I came home from a meeting this afternoon and sat at my desk wondering where all the "stuff" came from. I was only gone about forty-five minutes.
I started sorting through the top layer and came across a  gas receipt.
I should have told you, that since we've been married I don't think I've ever put gas in my car. I know, I know.
Anyway, he always takes the car and fills it up.
As I was heading out the door today, he said, "when was the last time we put gas in your car?"
Gee honey, I don't know, that's your job. I shrugged my shoulders and headed out. He shouted, "you better check before you leave."
I got in, adjusted the seat belt, started the car and waited for the needle to move. And I waited. Hmmmm.
I went back into the house and told my husband I would be taking his car to my meeting.
I looked down at the gas receipt in my hand. In my husband's handwriting he had scrawled across the bottom. "The tank holds 20 gallons, you had 1.787 gallons of gas in your car."
So what's the big deal, honey? I could have driven at least twenty-five more miles.   

IT'S YOUR TURN

My hubby is a sweetie. He tries so hard to help me. 
Several months ago he started helping with the laundry. When he walks by the hamper and it's falling on to the floor, he decides, on his own, that I must need help.
One of his admonitions to me is I need to learn to say no.
He's right, sometimes. 
I have to learn who I can say no to, don't I?
When the Pastor calls and needs help, how can I turn him down?
When the song leader calls, or the President of our Ladies Auxiliary here where I live?
A few weeks ago I came home from a meeting, exhausted. I plopped into a chair and kicked off my shoes.
My hubby leaned over, took my hand and said, "what's for dinner?"
Remembering the day he tried to "light" the gas stove with one of those lighters I use to light candles, I was hesitant to ask him to cook.
I smiled and said, "honey, it's your turn to cook."
Without missing a beat he said, "Of course. He stood up and reached for his car keys. What do you want from Maryland Chicken"?