Dating couples will take each other for a test drive.
When you're auditioning future mates, it's important to know how things will pan out in the long run. There are obvious elements to consider such as food preferences, body hygiene, and likelihood that they'd be a serial-killer. But by far the most important factor in relationships is how compatible you will be in the cars that you will share.
Will they shift the seat way up and tilt it so far forward that they can drive with their chest? Will they lean it back so far that they could take a nap in traffic? Will they boost the height and make you scrape your head when you try to cram yourself into the car?
None of these things seat settings are permanent, obviously; that's why they make them adjustable. But all of them take time to readjust every time you get into the car.
Every. Single. Time.
Take just one of those times and multiply it by several times a day for the length of a marriage. Suddenly a minor annoyance that's fixed in a minute became a needless waste of hours or days per year. Think about the various hobbies that you never have time for, or the novel that you never get around to starting because you don't have the time in your life; this is where that time went. Your partner stole that time by their relentless insistence that your car seat fit their body.
According to the Bureau of Tedious and Made-up Statistics (BTMS), most marriages last far less than the lease on your car. So maybe you're thinking that this doesn't seem too terrible, and that they're really cute. But cuteness erodes like the skyline view from your condo that got obscured by the new office block across the street. And the hassle of repositioning your car seat never gets easier. I would argue that, in fact, most marriages implode early due to this one single painful dynamic; none of us wants to waste our time on our comfort level, we just want it the way we always had it, before that other person came into our lives and just messed everything up.
So do yourself a favor: put your partner in the driver's seat and see what they do there. And if they change things around, leave them there.
It was my turn to go to the donut shop,
But I had no time and could not stop.
The future looked bleak and pastry-free;
I dreaded going to work.
I slowly opened my building’s door
Climbed the stairs, feeling bad, more and more,
Walked past the cubes and the offices,
Feeling like such a jerk.
When what did my drooping eyes perceive,
But something I could not scarcely believe:
Two boxes of donuts were there on display;
I was saved by a kindly co-work-