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Love is a full fuel tank…

Hubby drives a VW Tiguan. Unlike my car, his is salary sacrificed or something – I don’t care to understand because he’s the accountant; I just earn $ and pay bills – but because of this, all servicing and fuel is paid for using a special card from a special account.

Which is all just fine and dandy… except now, I have shiny new gym membership. We’re settling into a new family routine where I’m up and gone early, and Hubby does the cherubs ‘up and breakfast’ bit. And because it’s just to the gym and back, and because of the specialness of Hubby’s car milage being paid for with pre-tax funds instead of post-tax income, I’ve reluctantly agreed to use the VW on my gym mornings.

Have I mentioned I’m not great at driving other people’s cars – Hubby’s included? [I’m also terrible at driving places I’ve never been before – but that’s a whole ‘nother story…]

One of the greatest sources of my anxiety is that I can’t fill Hubby’s car with fuel. I don’t have the card, I don’t know which fuel it needs to use – heck, I don’t even know which side the tank is on, or where the lever release is!

16760087246_64f9756d9e_mBut I’ve never had to worry about it. As soon as the gauge starts nudging its way toward the 1/4 tank mark, Hubby fills up again. Without my even mentioning it!

That’s love. A full fuel tank.

What an awesome Hubby I have. I’m truly blessed – and grateful!

How about you, dear reader? What is ‘love’ for you?

And have a magnificent week, wherever you are!
— KRidwyn

CC image courtesy OER Training on Flickr