Do other wives have this problem? I swear my husband thinks he's Mario Andretti racing in the Indianapolis 500 every time we hit the road. I'm afraid one of these days we're going to hit the road literally, if you get my drift.
I've just about pounded a hole in the floorboard on my side of the car by stomping on an imaginary brake anytime David drives us to Edmond to watch our granddaughter cheer for her college football team. Or anytime we travel anywhere, for that matter. Thank goodness for the plastic floor mats David purchased to keep the carpet clean. It'll take me a lot longer to stomp through.
He's probably grateful that I fall asleep on the way back, most of the time. That way, I can't nag, er...gently remind him to GET OFF THE OTHER CAR'S you-know-what. No wonder we're both on blood pressure meds. On the upside, my right leg is getting a good workout. The downside is I'm starting to walk in circles.
I get the feeling he thinks speed limits are for suckers, rubes, or squares (like me). Expert drivers like him (in his own mind) do as they please. Never mind that we are so close to the car in front of us, we can read the fine print on the car's warranty. He accuses me of being a nervous nelly. Forgive me, but I think if you can sit at the stoplight and watch the movie showing on the built-in video player and read their lips, you're too stinkin' close.
On the flip side, I drive the exact speed limit. It drives David nuts. Cars get on my tail then whiz by while giving me hand signals suggesting how I may improve my driving. I've never had a ticket or wreck. Can they say the same thing? I'm also a big weenie when it comes to passing unless there are no cars within a mile of me. If I can see a vehicle in the other lane, I ain't going. So there. I love two-lane roads for scenic drives, but I HATE them when it comes to passing. I'll take an interstate highway for that any day.
The grandkids are already getting their Christmas wish lists ready for Nana and Papa. I made the mistake of letting them 'shop' on Amazon and add to my shopping cart. When I saw they'd filled the cart with 44 items adding up to over $1,400, I almost had to take another blood pressure pill. I was terrified one of us would 'accidentally' click on the buy button! I printed off the wish list and immediately deleted everything. When you're young, surprises are fun. At my age, they're already rubbing two paddles together and shouting "Clear!” I don't need that kind of surprise.
I know I'm getting old and forgetful but do I really need my iPhone calendar to remind me that Friday, November 26th is the day after Thanksgiving?
The pipsqueaks standing in front of computerized cash registers don't need to treat us like we're complete dolts. All they have to do is push a button, and it does all the work, and they have the nerve to act like I can't swipe my debit card without their assistance. This is from someone who needs a machine to let them know how to make change. If one more of them starts telling me what is on the terminal display, I think I'll hit them with my cane. (That was for dramatic effect. I don't own a cane–yet.)
It doesn't help when we go to the doctor's office, and he treats us like we're senile. He asked us to spell 'world' backward and out loud, write a sentence, draw an analog clock and duplicate some random scribble. I don't think he was happy with my responses. Apparently, "The heck with you" isn't the type of sentence he was looking for. That's not exactly what I wrote since I had to clean it up for this column, but you can use your imagination. I'm just kidding. That's what I wanted to write. Being the goody-two-shoes I am, I did what the doctor asked of me and griped about it later. I always think of what I should have said or done the minute I walk out.
He is such an optimist, though. He thinks if he writes me a prescription for medication with the instructions to use it more than once a day, I'll remember to do it. This would only happen if I suddenly developed a memory. I used to have a good memory when I was in high school. I guess as soon as I graduated, my brain said, "Enough is enough," and started slowing down. Anyway, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.