The Princess

Tim likes to tell me that I am a princess...and not in a good way. He insists that I am spoiled by things like freshly ground coffee every morning at the touch of a button, heated car seats and, of course, automatic car windows.

He particularly points to this last item and an incident that happened several years ago as proof.

My friend and I were visiting her family back in Idaho one summer and had borrowed her father's car for the day in order to visit her sister who lived some distance away. Upon getting into the car, I immediately reached for the button to lower the window and let out some of the heat.

Unable to find the button easily and not wanting to appear slow-witted, I surreptitiously began to search the door, the dashboard, the panel between the seats, even the seat itself, but alas, I was unable to find the button for the window. By this time, the heat inside the car had reached oven-like status and I could feel the sweat pouring off me. No longer caring how dumb I looked, I began an active search for the stupid button, before I began clawing at the window and gasping like a fish out of water.

After watching my machinations for a few moments, my friend finally asked me what I was looking for. Had I dropped something, or was I perhaps practicing for Cirque du Soliel?

I admitted to her that I had spent the last several minutes trying to figure out how to open the window, and asked what the trick was.

Fighting to keep a straight face, she leaned over me, grasped the big handle with the huge knob on it sticking out of the door conveniently located at hand level and cranked the window down.

Tim, of course has not let me forget this, and until recently, I really had no legitimate comeback.

However...

Awhile back, we were out someplace and Tim excused himself to go to the men's room. When he finally returned, I was teasing him about how long it had taken him and he admitted, rather shamefacedly, that he had had a bit of trouble washing his hands.

Apparently, he had been standing at the sink, holding his hands under the automatic faucet waiting for the water to come on, but to no avail. He waved his hands in front of the sensor, still no water. He tried the other sink, but that one seemed to be out of order too. As luck would have it, the janitor happened to enter the restroom just then and Tim turned to him in frustration and asked him how to get the sink to work.

The janitor leaned over...are you ready for this...and turned the knob next to the faucet, causing water to gush forth.

Who's the princess now?