My parents live in Washington State. I don’t see them nearly enough. In fact, it’s enough time that I always forget what it’s like to drive with my mom in the car. We have a fantastic relationship outside of automobiles. Inside, the word I’d use to describe it is painful.
I should’ve known it’d be a difficult week on the roads when I picked up my mom and dad from the airport. We’d been on the road no more than five minutes when my mom threw up her hand from the backseat to let me know there were brake lights ahead (cause that never happens on I-35). Not to mention she usually yells, leading me to believe I’m about to hit a cat or something and then my heart is beating at an unsafe rate for the next 10 minutes. She also likes to lecture other drivers who cut me off, saying things like “that space wasn’t for you!” By the way, she’d prefer I leave at least 12 seconds of space between me and the driver in front of me. Super duper realistic in the city.
Not sure where she acquired road rage given our life in towns with populations that typically didn’t break that 35,000 mark. I also like to remind her in the 14 years I’ve been driving, I’ve never been in a wreck, and that includes my time in California, a state known for it’s insane drivers. Speaking of, when I moved here from California, I drove a U-Haul with my mom and dog for 3 days. Before we’d even pulled out of Sacramento she was all over me for braking too quickly. You can imagine how the rest of the trip went. Let’s just say there was a 3 hour window from Des Moines to Shakopee that we didn’t speak.
Back to my conundrum. If I was loaded I’d hire us a driver for the rest of the week. But that’s not reality. So today I shall try to strike a deal with her. I’m thinking it’ll go something like this.. if we’re going to leave the house it will be on foot only, unless you promise to wear a blindfold while I’m driving. I don’t think this will go over well, but I’ll keep you posted. I’d really like to be able to leave the house without getting anxiety.