So we're in traffic Saturday afternoon in the city. All is quiet in our Jetta other than the tunes. I can't remember what; Jethro had already tired of Alexisonfire.
He gave me a devilish grin. Here's how the convo went:
HIM- you know what I wanna do? I wanna put the car in first, and let out the clutch real slow, and just go up to that car and PUSH it, just push it ahead. And then I wanna back up, and then take a run at it and BOOSJCH! RAM it into the car in front!
ME-oohh, that would be so great. You should do it!
HIM- yeah...I should
ME- Oh honey, if you knew all the illegal and potentially damaging things I restrain myself from doing...even just really embarrassing stuff...
HIM-Yeah baby. Kinda like stealing a fire truck.
ME- Oh! Still freaking out about that!
HIM- He's gonna do it again. Soon as they let him go, he's gonna do it again. That's a buzz you can't have just once.
ME- You can't have just one stolen fire truck.
HIM- No that could definitely be habit forming.
ME- Fire trucks are like chips, or kids. Hard to stop at one.
Of course the kids are listening to all of this, but their father has them so finely trained in sarcasm that they totally get it. I can't do sarcasm in typing. I just can't.
Any day in the city there will be fire trucks. We kept looking to see if they were being driven by actual firemen. Apparently it's not that hard to do...