a story....

So funny story from this weekend...let's see if I can do it justice by retelling it

My dad had continuing education classes on Sunday up in Oro Valley at El Conquistador resort-translation, about as far north as Salt Lake city. Ok, not that far, it just felt like forever when you're racing to meet them out there and not miss the end of that smashing Suns game where we kicked complete hiney. So yeah, I slightly sped a little, ok maybe a lot, to make it out there when I realized that my gas tank was nearly on E--a little close to the actual red line, but I didn't think I had that far to go and I sure didn't want to miss the Suns, heaven forbid. So I figured I'd just get gas on the way home later that night.
After the game, around 930 or so, I was ravishingly hungry and needed some dinner, so we all left in search of some. My dad got in my car to drive, when the gas light dinged at him. Oops, I said, I was gonna get gas on the way out..and now we can just get some on the way to dinner. After a few minutes with him behind the wheel, he started freaking out and saying in a stern voice, "I can't believe you Jenny, you're below the red line!" Now, you have to kinda know my dad. He never ever gets angry, so when he does, you know you did something very bad. That tone came creeping into his voice as he kept going on about how low my gas was, what in the world had I been thinking, and oh gosh you're on vapors. I tried to lighten the mood (as I always do when I'm in a tense situation) and tried to make jokes about how silly this was, how great it would be if we did run out of gas, etc etc. basically, lots of jenny's typical lighthearted stupid comments in an attempt to make everyone happy.
Dad wasn't buying it. He pulled over into the far right lane on oracle and was driving about 35 when the speed should have been about 55. Cars kept zipping by us, and I joked we'd probably just get pulled over for going too slow. we proceeded to keep going slower, and slower, and slower as my dad was promptly lecturing me about how I should never drive alone at night with my gas tank that and how many things could go wrong, and where in the world is the closest gas station. We finally found it, and by this time i was starting to sweat bullets actually wondering if we could possibly run out of gas. My dad turned the car left into the circle k at seriously a snails pace...by this time, Jenny's lighthearted jokes were gone as my dad exclaimed "oh great," in his sturn-dad voice. we had to go up over a small rise into the gas station, and by the time we reached the top of the rise, the car sputtered and stopped. I threw a look of panic at my dad as he exclaimed, "see, I told you Jenny. now you have to get out and push, get out and push!" and I freaked out that (of course) my dad was right and here I am in the wrong and I have to get out an push. I threw open the door and yelled (without thinking) "how do I push?" i turned around with this deer in the headlights look just to see my dad with this hugely sinister grin on his face.
He started laughing hysterically and barely got out that he was kidding about the whole thing. He was so proud at himself for fooling me soooo greatly that I heard about it the entire weekend. I must admit, it was pretty good, and he fooled me so well I bought it hook line and sinker. Although, if anyone again knows me, it's not that hard.
Still really funny though. Gotta love dads. and I sure love mine. :)