Friday, September 23, 2011

Backseat, and Under-aged, Drivers



Boys have a thing for cars.  I get it.  Sort of.  I don't actually understand the thingjust that there is one.  My dudes all have it... even down to the youngest generation.

When I was 16 I loved to drive. Twenty years later I drive only because I must. I could do without it.  
A chauffeur would be fantastic, in fact! Please inquire within if interested.

Since, none of you have volunteered yet I continue to drive everywhere I go. Unless T is with me, then I get to ride as a carsick passenger.  I hate driving with T in the car. He is a backseat driver!! Maybe it's because my driving is not up to his standards, or maybe it is just him. I am not sure. Either way he's a backseat driver, especially when he has been drinking. Which is usually the only reason I'd be driving him.
Most often I am just driving the boys. But, as of late, they are all backseat drivers as well. All of them!!! If that's not enough to make you want to give up motor vehicles forever then I am not sure what is.
The fact that the boys don't know how to drive a car does not play a factor in this. Under-aged, under-sized, they each play their role in telling me how to drive. And where. And how fast.
Clinton will tell me the speed limit on every road after every sign we pass. "35 mommy, don't drive any faster!" Sure wish there was a "quiet please" sign for him to read!!! He will also tell me, on a multi-lane road, which lane he wants me in, regardless of any circumstances that may determine the lane for me!
MacGyver is constantly telling me to the catch up to the car in the other lane and a few feet ahead of me and considers it a race won if I pass them. "Pass that blue car, mommy!"  And, once I do, if I do, he cheers only to say "pass that yellow car mommy!"  Smiles just wants me to go, go, go! Should I stop at a red light or, even worse, behind a stopped car, a relentless "GOGOGOGOGOGO" will ensue until I start driving again.
Turning left out of my development, especially at rush hour, has proven difficult. I could sit there for several minutes before an opening appears. Each tick on the clock passes like nails on the chalkboard as I have the peanut gallery telling me to "go," "turn," "hurry, they're winning," all at once. It' almost like singing row, row, row your boat in a nightmarish and repeated round as they each shout their line. It’s nearly enough to pull out amidst traffic and hope for the best just to get them to shut up!!
So, driving has lost its luster, its thrill. The free feeling that was present in my late teens blew away in the wind (or wore out with age?).
Really, is anyone interested in chauffeuring me and my backseat drivers everywhere we go? You can help yourself, free of charge, to the endless supply of goldfish crushed into the car rug and buried in their car seats.