Case in point: it's a sunny Saturday morning and we're cruising down the road. Up ahead, a burgundy car comes to a dead
halt in our lane. Hubby does not reduce speed. Closer and closer we come to the stopped car without so much as losing a millisecond of our momentum. Finally the level-headed and ever vigilant wife,
preferring not to finish out the day as a hood ornament, yells, "Stop!" Hubby slams on the brakes and slows in time to avoid a collision, while affixing the safety officer with a dirty look.
"I was going to stop," he says through clenched teeth.
"Really? Was this event going to take place before or after we're airborne?"
He doesn't answer. He's thinking women should stick
to driving grocery carts and leave the heavy stuff to the guys. He has that look on his face -- the same one he got when I accidentally scraped the fence while backing out of the driveway. That fence,
I might add, was built ridiculously close to the driveway. Jeff Gordon would have scraped it. Richard Petty would have scraped it. Martha Stewart would have scraped it.
So, because he's less than
fond of my driving, he does it. And, since he drives, I make it a point to be on the lookout for all the things he might miss. Sort of a spousal early warning system.
"Hey, watch that guy there, he
looks like he's getting ready to pull out in traffic. Oooh, look at the dent in that baby, you'd better give her some space. This light is real short so you'd better hurry on through it. Why are you stopping
here? This isn't where you turn. Watch it, you're getting a little close to that truck in front of us. You know, it would be a lot easier to turn into the parking lot if you'd get into the right lane," I
helpfully point out.
I've been generously offering my husband this type of information and assistance since about a year after we were married. And I've noticed he seems to need more and more of it
the longer we're wed. But, although I'm certain he truly appreciates my efforts, I may have to be more careful when the kids are in the car.
The other day while we were sailing along, I heard a small
voice from the back seat say, "Dad, you need to watch out. You're pretty close to that car."
I turned around to find the remark came from my daughter, who was happily giving her daddy plenty of
play-by-play driving advice.
"Don't do that," I said.
"Why not, Mom? You do it."
"That's true, but the rule is you can only do it your own husband and since you're not even 10 yet,
you've got a long way to go. Besides, you can't even drive. So stop that and go get your own. He's mine," I said.
Boy, the nerve of some people! Let's see, where was I? Oh yeah....
"Honey,
don't you think you're gripping that steering wheel a little too tight? You need to learn how to relax more. Your knuckles are getting awfully white....."
