Gas prices are going through the roof. I paid $12 for a gallon the other day. No, that is not a typo. Actually it was $12.50, as in Terry Bradshaw's jersey number, and half of 100. Of course, there's a story behind it.

If you need evidence of the statement above, consider the following scenario that happened a few weeks ago.

Having been happily married for over a decade, I take pride in trying to help my wife out whenever I can. For instance, warming her car up on cold winter mornings or picking up one of her favorite snacks on the way home from work are two things I do on a somewhat regular basis to show her she's special.

A few days ago, I volunteered to take her car back to the office one evening since she didn't want to change the kids' car seats around.

Due to a hectic schedule that day, it never occurred to me that checking certain gauges would be necessary, so I merely drove to work as quickly as humanly possible. I forgot to transfer my cell phone charger, the importance of which will become apparent in a moment or two.

After putting in an extra three hours at the office, I climbed into her car and pulled out of the parking lot, eager to get home for the night and watch some quality reality television. That wasn't going to happen.

Halfway along Route 8, near Armco Hill, the car slowed to a crawl and an eventual stop. Sure enough, her car had been running on fumes for the past decade and this time, it ran out of gas.

Not a problem, I had my cell phone, right? I pulled the "electronic-lifeline-that-was-purchased-in-the-event-of-an-emergency" out of my bag and discovered it was dead. This, of course, was because I left my cell phone charger in my car.

Fortunately, my business partner had pulled out behind me only 30 seconds later and I stood on the side of the hill eager to flag him and his cell phone down.

Like a great partner, he flew by me at a speed most NASCAR drivers fail to reach.

As an out of shape father of two, I contemplated crying before walking, but eventually, I started to walk back toward the office.

Several minutes later, however, my partner returned.

"Sorry Chris. I saw you but couldn't pull over." No kidding, I thought. You were going Mach II up the hill, although part of me was jealous.

"Not a problem. Can you get me to the 7-11 for some gas?"

Within two minutes we were at the top of the hill. The gas container was $10. Apparently the store understands the concept of supply and demand.

One gallon of gas was $2.50, and I was soon on my way after tossing the container into the trunk.

That is how it cost $12.50 for one gallon of gas.

Returning home I shared my story, being certain to make it similar to a fisherman's tale of the one that got away. I reminded my wife she would need gas tomorrow, even making a small note and leaving it on the counter for her as a reminder.

What comes around goes around, however.

The next day, after coming home from work, my wife blushed and said, "I ran out of gas today."

What's left to say at this point? How do you not smile?

"But at least I took your gas container from last night, so it didn't cost us an arm and a leg to put a gallon in."

I'd like to say that was intentional, but it wasn't. She asked me the night before to get that "smelly, stinky thing" out of her trunk. I didn't, and it actually paid off.

For once, not doing what she asked was a positive thing. Maybe I'll try it with other things.