Menace on the Road

My husband has not driven for several years and since he can’t walk more than a few steps, finds himself confined to the house. He therefore rates the success of each day according to whether he can persuade me to take him for a drive in the car or let him take me ‘some place nice’ for supper .

Until recently I have found fulfilling the former desire much easier than the second. Harry is never particular or dictatorial about where he wants to go; he’ll settle for anywhere errands take us and then happily wait in the car for up to an hour as long as it’s not too cold. Even when I’d LIKE him to accompany me into a store to buy something for HIM, he’ll gently but firmly insist that he’d prefer to wait in the car. His favourite destination is the liquor store even though he declines to browse the aisles and gets to enjoy almost none of the purchases.

But lately, I’ve had to start reconsidering our daily outings. He mentally drives along with me and aggressively exhorts me to ‘Go ahead, you can turn left now!’ --‘Yes, and run over that old lady and her dog.’ Or ‘Why did you turn left HERE??’ --‘Because that’s the direction we’re going in and you don’t even know what our destination is!’ This is somewhat unnerving but I’m working on training myself to eschew any Pavlovian reaction that would risk injury, a collision with another car, or a traffic ticket.

Of late, he has developed an even more dangerous habit. Always critical of other drivers, Harry has now escalated to yelling critical comments to other vehicles at the car window (mercifully closed in the winter), or randomly waving other drivers to go ahead or stop and give me priority despite what MY intentions might be.

Monday, we were attempting to leave the parking lot at Dominion (I REFUSE to call it Metro!!) when a big SUV (is there any other kind?) blocked my way. Harry’s solution was to order me to ‘Honk at him!’ Forgetting my resolve, I stupidly obeyed and as I inched by him, the driver rolled down his window and expressed HIS feelings on the situation. I ignored him and congratulated myself on having extricated myself from a potentially nasty encounter. Glancing to my right, however, I was horrified to see that Harry, the usually mild-mannered gentleman scholar who never even swears, was defiantly giving the guy the finger.

I’m beginning to think my life will be much safer if I restrict our daily outings to ‘some place nice’ located as short a driving distance as possible from home.