I must clarify however, I do not speak (except when I'm certain that immediate peril is imminent). But it is my "body language" that seems to keep me in trouble. I flinch, grip, close my eyes, use my imaginary brake and clinch the door panel. Poor Ron, thank goodness he is one patient soul! My only saving grace is that he is horrible with directions and if it were not for "my" subtle... redirection we would have ended up in Anaheim rather than the corner grocery store.
In my defense I believe this affliction began the day of my twins 16th birthday. Teaching two 16 year old girls how to drive was more traumatic than my divorce. One had no idea what the brake was used for and the other thought it was the responsibility of every car on the road to get out of "her" way. All I could think about was that it had only been a few years earlier that I had to tell these people to go pee! Now THEY had my life in their hands?
Good thing Ron knew all about my affliction BEFORE the wedding!
4 comments:
I love the cartoon. I'm a good driver, but mr. kenju would say that's me in the cartoon, saying "WHAT???)
Ha! This tickled me no end. Not that I personally have ever been know to be a backseat driver.
How funny since you aren't in a car with me. I tend to be a silent sufferer but mentally scratch them off my list of people I will let drive.
I have a friend who thinks zero to 60 in 8 seconds is manditory.
There is a simple solution, always insist on doing the driving your self and let them white knuckle it. It is better to give anxiety than to receive.
Yes, I believe you have hit the nail on the head. Teaching a 16 year old to drive scars you permanently. :)
Caregivingly Yours, Patrick
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