My car died in rush-hour traffic at a red light today; I called my old man to have him come get me so we could pick up the kids (I was already half an hour late picking them up from school). I waited 45 hot, embarrassing minutes as pissed-off people lined up behind me honking and making rude gestures (honestly, is everybody too stupid to know what hazard lights mean anymore?). I was beginning to get really angry myself when he finally pulled up with the kids already in the car. He'd picked them up from school first. It's a little thing, but I appreciate having a hubby that thinks of his kids before anything else.