Driving Crazy

How my husband thinks I drive…
              safe drive
How I really drive…
Picture this: You just dropped your diamond ring in the toilet bowl at the port-a-potty at a general admission camp ground on a summer evening, put your hand in the toilet to retrieve it and notice that the ring is actually lying on the floor right next to the toilet. As you are getting your hand out, the lid dropped with a thud – on your fingers. Suppress your tears, dress in haste and try to rush out as soon as you can; only to realize the door latch is hanging loose, and there’s a line of people outside waiting to get in – all staring –at the bear towering over the portapotty you are in.

Now, consider this: You are a newlywed, new to this country and its roads, would like to learn to drive and your sugary sweet, head-over-heels in love with you husband offered to be your instructor on evenings and weekends. Awwww, right? I’d take the first situation in a heartbeat.
Just 2 months into marriage and a million miles away from where I grew up across seven seas, my husband and I could never get enough of each other. We were all around the town, everyday of the week, every waking moment, together, hand in hand, separating only to take bathroom breaks. We never quite understood how other couples could walk, sit or stand at a distance from each other. It seemed so impossible at that time…oh, that time! That was how we decided he would be my driving teacher. I mentioned this to a friend and she said, “girl, you’re.. ok, call me if you need me”. Strange!
Anyways, back to us. It was always we…never I. We went to DMV together for my learning permit, he was nervous for me as I took the test, I got the permit, we smiled happily and we came back home to live happily ever after.
Next evening, we got in the car, me at the wheel with him by me all radiant and bubbly. An hour later, he was yelling and I was keeping myself from bursting like a balloon sitting on a pin. 3 days later, he was cursing and I was screaming. Here’s an example, “Hands firmly on the wheel”, (okay firm it is), “I said firm, not uproot”, (okay light touch). “Yeah, what are you holding, remote to an atom bomb? Break, break…dammit, I’d be surprised if we get home in one piece. (Okay slow it). “Why are you crawling on the freeway honey? FAAAAST. (Looks like I need to speed up). “Stop being nervous, it reflects in your driving”. (Uh, it’s a little hard to spread joy when you are being strangled verbally!) We decide to give it a break for 2 days. After the break, when we resumed classes we were considering a divorce. Now I know why vodka was invented. I still love you, honey!
I called the driving school the next day and enrolled. I also called my friend and …well, you get the picture. Life was so much better after that. The instructor picked me up from my apartment, we drove off and all was well with the world again.

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