Driving me crazy

Let’s get one thing straight – I LOVE to drive.  I mean I truly love it.  It’s one of my favorite things.  There is very little in life that feels as good as getting behind the wheel of a car and just going.  It’s even better if you are on a long, straight stretch of road with a high or non existent speed limit.  You crank your music, sing along at the top of your lungs and just become one with the road.  It is a magnificent experience and one of life’s pleasures.

Having said that, I’m throwing down the gauntlet and making a command decision. I refuse to teach my children to drive.  No, I don’t plan on carting them around for the rest of their lives or ordering them endless Uber rides.  And, no, neither of my two kids are about to become old enough to drive.  Actually, it was my experience running errands today that solidified this decision.  I alternated between completely enraged to downright fearful for my life.  Where are these people getting their driver’s’ license, a box of cereal?  Are DMV workers just pitching a license into open windows, yelling congratulations and boom a new driver?  I just don’t understand where they’re all coming from.

Look, I am not proclaiming myself the best driver in the universe.  I have a lead foot, although, it has gotten better since I bought a van and had kids.  I have had my fair share of tickets and wrecks. But, I have never drove like my hair was on fire while weaving in and out of bumper to bumper traffic on an interstate.  I have never pretended I would get actual points for hitting a pedestrian. (Not really) And, let’s not forget the biggest offender of them all.  No, not the asshole that refuses to signal.  We’re talking about the slow driver. You know the one camped out in their lane, doing 10 to 15 miles under the speed limit and not going with the flow of traffic.  And forget about passing them, because that’s when they find the accelerator only to slow down just as you give up.  It just makes me cuss. Which leads me to the real reason I won’t teach my kids to drive – my big mouth.

I yell at other drivers. I try to keep my speech PG when the kids are in the car but heaven help me when I’ve had one too many encounters with idiots I’m like the Dad from The Christmas Story.  There is a cloud of obscenities hovering over my head. I can’t begin to imagine how bad it would be if one of my kids was behind the wheel and some fool nearly hit them.  I would probably lose my shit – like epically lose my shit. I can see it now me hanging out the side of the car like a dog, bull horn in hand, screaming, “Hey asshole you nearly hit my kid.” And, that would be the tame phrase.  I’m not even gonna type what I probably really would say.

Actually, that’s a great idea.  I could get a bullhorn installed in my car – you know the ones like the cops have? Instead of ‘please pull over and exit the vehicle with your hands up’ I could yell things at other drivers like ‘speed up dumbass’ or ‘if you hit me while putting on your makeup I will sue you for every dime you have’.  Hmmm, think I’ll go google a company that will install said device.


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