Micah and I share a common fear--running out of gas.
When I was a girl, I would always watch the needle as it inched to the left, wondering if Dad would get gas before we ran out, stranded in the street. It never happened, so I don't know why I was so fearful of this experience, but I was.
As I've gotten older, that fear has been mitigated by advancements in technology. The needle on E was first augmented by a red light, and now the computer gives you an estimate of how many miles you can drive before running out. I don't really worry about it too much any more, but Micah still does. He is most comfortable when the gauge shows more than half a tank of gas.
Last week, Micah had rugby practice 4-5 miles from home. On our way there, the gauge said Gus had 18 miles to go, but he advised me to get gas before I came to get him. As a joke, I purposely didn't just to tease him a little. As we turned out of the parking lot, the gauge took a sudden dip down, from 11 miles to 6. Then, in less than a mile, it dipped again--to 3. Then, when we had more than a mile to go before we got to the gas station, it said 1. That's when my fear resurfaced, and I wondered if we really would get stranded with no gas, just because I was trying to be funny.
Lucky for both of us, turning into the gas station tipped the remaining fuel in the tank to register 6 miles left of gas.
We laughed in relief and filled the tank, guessing how many gallons it would take (over 14).
Part of me still wonders how many actual miles we could have driven before we were stranded, but I'm not that brave.
When I was a girl, I would always watch the needle as it inched to the left, wondering if Dad would get gas before we ran out, stranded in the street. It never happened, so I don't know why I was so fearful of this experience, but I was.
As I've gotten older, that fear has been mitigated by advancements in technology. The needle on E was first augmented by a red light, and now the computer gives you an estimate of how many miles you can drive before running out. I don't really worry about it too much any more, but Micah still does. He is most comfortable when the gauge shows more than half a tank of gas.
Last week, Micah had rugby practice 4-5 miles from home. On our way there, the gauge said Gus had 18 miles to go, but he advised me to get gas before I came to get him. As a joke, I purposely didn't just to tease him a little. As we turned out of the parking lot, the gauge took a sudden dip down, from 11 miles to 6. Then, in less than a mile, it dipped again--to 3. Then, when we had more than a mile to go before we got to the gas station, it said 1. That's when my fear resurfaced, and I wondered if we really would get stranded with no gas, just because I was trying to be funny.
Lucky for both of us, turning into the gas station tipped the remaining fuel in the tank to register 6 miles left of gas.
Part of me still wonders how many actual miles we could have driven before we were stranded, but I'm not that brave.
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