Driving Me Crazy

Dear Grandma. In your absence Grandad’s gone all Thelma & Louise. Love Bruce.

The only driving event my family would ever consider entering would be the Demolition Derby. In fact, judging by the look of our cars you’d think we already had. Trouble is, we’d be just as likely to have an accident driving to the arena than in it.

I got a phone call today from Tracey. Master21 had been on the phone to her. It went something like this: “Gooffrey called. There’s a photo on Facebook of an old man standing beside his car which has gone over an embankment. It’s Grandad.”

Well, of course it is.

Why? Because Grandma is away visiting my sister and Grandad hadn’t had his traditional ‘she’s gone so I can do whatever I like’ bing yet. Last year he reversed out of his garage, down the driveway, across the street, up the footpath and into the neighbour’s rose bed.

There’s a plant connection here I’m just not fathoming. Maybe he’s trialing a revolutionary new pruning method.

I’ve often mentioned my family’s poor driving skills. For example, you can tell which house our car belongs to because our fence paint is tattooed all up the sides.

I remember when Master21 had his little bing a few years ago and had to go to court to explain about the parked car which jumped out at him. It went well, with a suspended fine plus all he had to do was keep his nose clean for three months and he wouldn’t have the incident on his record.

“Three months,” he said as we left the courthouse. “No problem.”

“Really?” I said to him. “You’ve had your licence two months and you’ve hit a car, two buildings, several gutters and nearly taken out a street sign. Just start saving for that fine.”

But I’m not here to pick on my son. I’m picking on my dad.

“Nice park,” I said to my father when I arrived and we surveyed the damage together. “They’ll be able to fit heaps more cars in this way.”

He was looking just about as sheepish as I’ve ever seen him. It seemed as good a time as any to bring up that difficult subject.

“Do you think maybe it’s time to hang up your keys?” I asked him when I dropped him home. His car was driveable but we had it in at the mechanics getting a look over to make sure all the bits were still where they should be.

“No need,” he assured me. “Heaps of people drove past and saw it. They’ll all know to get out my way now.”

The car is fine and he’ll be picking it up tomorrow – just a few new scratches which are almost indistinguishable from the other scratches, so that’s lucky.

Looks like the G-town Derby will be on again in no time. I apologize in advance.

Dear Grandma. Mr Magoo needs you. Love Bruce.

When not typing away over here and checking his stats every two minutes Bruce Devereaux hangs out at his ‘BIG FAMILY little income’  Facebook Page.

 ’raising a family on little more than laughs’


  • *sigh* My parents are quite elderly, and Dad has only recently decided to stop driving. Thank goodness! It’s a pretty tricky minefield to navigate, what with the loss of independence and pride involved. But when you know what they can’t see when they are driving, yet the medical professionals pass them as fit to drive, it’s a very worrying time!

  • My grandmother lost her license and then failed the driving test because she was speeding. She told me very matter of factly that she would just drive unlicensed if she failed again.
    A family friend disconnected the battery of their elderly mothers car and assured her it was unfixable. That was almost ten years ago and she assures us that it will be fixed next week .

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