The cold weather is creeping into my lungs and it's not fun. We managed to go to the library briefly and on the way back I receive this call.
Me: Honey, I spent the day cleaning and trying to work on the letter. Do you mind picking up some dinner?
Mr. Ozturk: Uuhhh, I'll have to stop at the bank. Get me some halal chinese.
Me: I don't have cash either--hold on, my bag is slipping, my nose is running and Iza's tugging on my other arm....
Mr. Ozturk: Well, you're already outside. Go to the bank.
Me: I don't want to walk back to the bank now.
Mr. Ozturk: Waaah, I don't want to stop the car at the bank and get out of the car.
(Disclaimer: This is my version of the story, recreated to emphasize the unfairness of asking me to walk to the bank, when Mr. Ozturk doesn't want to drive by an ATM.)
He'd be in a lot of trouble had he not come home with some good news and taken Little Miss our of my hands right away. Lucky lucky charming husband. For all his quirks I can't help snickering at occasionally, he's a great father!