In the beginning days of my marriage to JR I did everything I could to get my in-laws to like me. Okay, maybe that was shooting a little high. I wanted them to at least get over the feeling that I stole their 31 year old baby from their protective arms. I just ripped him away to do nefarious things to his person. And worse off I liked it. I had the big ole pregnant belly to prove it.
In the spirit of new daughter-in-law friendliness I opted to let my father-in-law drive JR's precious Volkswagen Scirocco. Big mistake.
The whole experience went something like this:
Eddie: Margaret and I need to go to Fred Meyers (like Target) would you like to come?
We all pile into JR's Scirocco because that was the only car home at the time. Eddie picked the drivers seat immediately because he's the man. My mother-in-law had to have the front passenger seat because she was afflicted with Rheumatoid Arthritis and just couldn't get into the back seat. So I squeezed my 7 months pregnant body into the back seat of this tiny car. I had to go pee. I always had to go pee but this was worse. My pretzel position put more pressure on my already abused bladder.
Anyway, off we go. I'm in the backseat giving Eddie directions. We go a mile or two with me becoming increasingly aware that Eddie is having a hard time shift gears in this vehicle. He's grinding them, he's not down shifting, he's not slowing down at corners, he's skipping gears altogether. I'm starting to fear for my life and the life of my unborn child. Not to mention my mother-in-law who JR thinks of as the God of all women and if I could be just like her his life would be complete. The paralyzing fear and the intense pressure on my bladder made me go pee just a little. It wasn't pleasant.
Me: Turn left here. God, Eddie slow down before you turn.
Eddie: I can't. If I do I won't be able to find first gear again. (as he cuts off a big delivery truck).
Eddie: G*dd**m truck.
Me: Make a right here. For the love of God Eddie slow down before you turn! You had to have been riding on two wheels.
Eddie: This F*&king car has such a short throw. (as he blows through another stop sign.)
After a few more miles, many missed stop signs, several near collisions, and at least one curb hopping incident the direction/driving conversation took a turn that Eddie could not have anticipated.
Me: Pull over.
Me: Yeah, pull over here.
Eddie: There's no store here?
Me: I know. Just pull over.
Me: Turn the car off.
Me: That's right, I said turn the car off. Good, Now get out.
Eddie: Okay (looking all bewildered)
I haul my fat body out of the back seat; I'm sure rupturing something vital in the process.
Me: Get in.
Eddie: Are you going to walk to the store?
Me: No Eddie. Get in the back seat.
Eddie: But, I was driving.
Me: No Eddie, what you were doing was not called driving. Not by anyone's standards. Get the hell in.
Eddie slowing stuffs his 75 year old body into the back seat of the car. I graciously move the seat forward. Okay, maybe it wasn't so gracious as necessary since I'm short but it did give him more room. We smoothly drive off.
Eddie sulking in the back. Muttering things like; I would have gotten the hang of it eventually and It's the car's fault and I don't understand what the problem was, I didn't actually hit anything.
Me in the drivers seat actually stopping for stop signs, downshifting, grabbing all the gears, and not grinding them.
My newly minted mother-in-law calmly seating in the passenger seat laughing her head off.
Margaret: Michele, Thank you. I've been wanting to do that for almost 50 years.
I only ever drove with Eddie once since that time. And, that one time he had the nerve to backup on an on-ramp to I5 in downtown Seattle. Once, again I asked him to pull over. Which he did. He knew what was coming. He'd been there before. He got out and switched me places. JR was in the car that time. He was astonished. He looked over at his dad who told him: "She won't let me drive".
Eddie: She won't let me drive EVER.
And I didn't!
Linda over at Crone and Bear it was kind enough to present me with this butterfly award. I'm not sure what the rules are (I would just break them anyway) so lets just say if you want it help yourself. If you want to perform some sort of ritualistic ceremony complete with chanting, do that too. I'm good with it.
P.S. Jen over at Sprite's Keeper had an interesting idea. A painting give away. I could paint something over the next week or so then host a give away. How does this sound to you all?