Friday night, I dragged my tired self toward the car.  Long day at work.  Hard Spin Class at the Y.  Time to drive home.

Before starting the car, I glanced at my phone.  A message from my friend at work, Jane.  Sent 35 minutes ago.  “Where are you?,” the message read.

Fair question.  My response, “YMCA, my second home (smiley face)”.

Immediate response from Jane, “Dave!  So sorry.  I thought that message was going to Kevin (Jane’s husband)!  No wonder I didn’t get a reply from him!”

Indeed, score one for Kevin.  Off the hook for “delayed spousal text response.”

Minus one point for me, I should have spotted a misplaced “classic spousal text” a mile away.