Early Morning of October 25, 2014
In South Africa, when you pull up to a gas station, they have service attendants. This concept is mostly foreign to Americans, unless you live in New Jersey. So when I stopped to get gas on our way to Destin, he started asking me all these questions about the process of pumping gas, and I had totally forgotten that he’d never pumped his own gas. He didn’t watch me this time, because it was unusually cold outside, but when I filled up in preparation for our return trip to New Orleans, he got out and studied the process–how to pay at the machine, choose the type of gas, and then actually fill it and know when to stop it.
It’s the little things.
like black butterflies 