A car pulling a trailer came thundering down our road when it realized it had to stop. Instead of braking gently, the driver opted to fan the brakes, meaning the street was filled with screeching.
“I really thought they were going to crash,” Tracey told me.
A thought which was not shared by Miss6, who jumped up excitedly from the table when the noise began.
“Yay!” she squealed. “Daddy’s home!”
Tracey, of course, took Miss ‘s statement as further evidence my driving sucks.
“Even the kids are noticing it,” she told me smugly.
And she’s kind of right. But it’s not what you think.
According to my wife, my driving has always been cause for some concern but despite how this reads I don’t speed or hoon or anything silly. In fact, I get embarrassed if my wheels spin on loose gravel. Although it’s true that unlike Tracey I might like to get the car up to the speed limit before we arrive at our destination.
No, all those bevan antics aren’t my scene at all. My problem is I’m a bit of a Gladys Kravitz behind the wheel.
“Did you see that cubby house?” I’ll say to Tracey. “That’s new.”
“Missed it,” she’ll say. “But then one of us has to watch the road.”
“I am watching the road.”
“Oh really? What’s on the telly at the moment?”
“Well, it looked like someone was watching The Big Bang Theory a few streets back.”
Yep, the fact is I drive around town like an old retired man walks – slowing, speeding up, almost stopping, weaving a bit while pointing – so most of the squeals are from the poor codgers in the vehicles behind me.
When not over here, Bruce Devereaux hangs out at his Big Family Little Income Facebook Page. Come join us 🙂
”Raising a family on little more than laughs.”