It’s always an immense relief when realizing you haven’t raised a child with a touch of certifiability. Our daughter has driven a red Mustang for the last seven years, since she was in college. When the problems commenced, I can’t say, but for the prior few years, she seemed a bit irritated (softened adjective) when she was driving, particularly when she was in rush hour. At times, she appeared more interested in the actions of the cars around her than any conversation we were having—yeah, I know, she should have been, but I’m talking about being at almost a standstill.
I worried for her, wondering if maybe she should move closer to work to lower the stress involved in the long drive. Maybe she was under more stress than we realized? Maybe there are an inordinate amount of questionables driving in Charleston? Maybe she shouldn’t drive?
I should mention that she is an excellent driver, not one to use the power her engine is definitely capable of…well, unless there’s an emergency, of course. You see, she totaled her car about two weeks after getting her license, a simple mistake of taking a graveled onramp too fast. The next thing she knew, she was going backwards onto an interstate with a speed limit of 75. It was scary for all involved, particularly her parents! All were fine—luckily, an off-duty police officer was driving the car that approached her as she came onto the interstate, and she deftly hit our daughter’s back panel to throw her off the highway. It still scares me as I write this.
Back to the intense “irritation” with other drivers…we just didn’t get it. Until last Sunday, Mother’s Day, when she came to the house to spend the day with me. Unfortunately, her car broke down about half a mile from the house. Long story, long, we set up having her car towed to a repair place for the following day, enjoyed our afternoon, and she took my car home. The next day, the mechanic said he’d bring her car back to me the following day—wonderful, right??
The next day, the car was returned as promised, and I awaited my car; however, I needed to pick something up from the store, so I took the Mustang. NEVER have I EVER been so rudely treated in a car! You would’ve thought that I had a target on my back bumper. People wouldn’t let me change lanes, they were cutting me off, they were challenging me as they came along side of the car. I was shocked. Basically, the red Mustang says something very different to those who view it than intended by our daughter. I couldn’t believe it. Honestly, I wouldn’t drive the car; that kind of attention would make me crazy, not to mention seeing the worst in some people.
When I told our daughter, she was vindicated! It was too funny. She only said, “I told you! People are nuts!”–which only made me laugh harder.
So, consider this my personal public service announcement. Take it easy on the sports cars! Think of the driver as your daughter, son, wife, husband, mother, father…whatever works for you. In our case, it’s a young women who’d be the one to stop and help you on the road. Let her in.
Quote of the Day:
People will never truly understand something until it happens to them.
Designs on Life 