You're Driving Me Crazy!
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[2 Comments]Our first date should have tipped us off: Steve and I definitely had driving compatibility issues.
When the shy, sweet guy of my dreams forgot to release the parking brake, I figured he was suffering from nerves. But when he ran a stop sign, I felt a little nervous, especially since I'd totaled my father's car not long before. When Steve ran another, I clung discreetly to the door handle as if it were my salvation. When he ran the third, I let out a polite, "Aaaaahhhhh!"
How did we agree to a second date? Love covered a multitude of driving sins, especially since Steve relaxed and reverted to his usual A-in-driver's-ed self. (He didn't know my driving teacher had predicted my demise within 10 years.)
Steve offered to chauffeur me everywhere. Fine by me. Two major accidents had resulted in record insurance rates that revoked my wheels.
Four years later, however, my now-fiancé insisted I learn to drive again. I proudly obtained my license and knew we'd drive together happily ever after.
Wrong.
Sometimes the conflicts started before the car did.
Keeping the Record Straight
Fresh from college culture, neither of us minded papers, books, or French fries piled on the floor. But our differing windshield-cleaning traditions bordered on theological importance because of our January wedding. Steve removed every snowflake as if it were a sin, sanctifying not only the front, but back and side windows. I swiped a brush across the front windshield, then zoomed off in my mobile igloo, trusting God's protection.
The gasoline gauge also provoked lengthy discussions. I'd always fueled two gallons at a time so my moocher siblings wouldn't gobble up my gas.
My new husband didn't appreciate this strategy. "Fill it up!"
I discovered Steve, a.k.a. the Driver, also expected his wife to play Chief Navigator. I possess no sense of direction—my family sort of enjoyed getting lost—but I did my best.
"How far is the next exit?" he'd ask.
"I'm not quite sure." I rustled the map to sound like I knew what I was doing.
"The next town south?"
Pause.
Long pause.
"You've got the map upside down!" He nearly swerved off the road. "North is at the top!"
"Maybe God says that in the Bible?" I crossed my arms.
Our "truth in love" sessions intensified when I took over the wheel, especially when a polite driver wanted to yield the right of way at an intersection.
"It's not your turn," Steve advised as I edged forward.
"She's waving me on." My hackles arose.
"You're breaking traffic rules! Other drivers won't know what you're doing!"
"They don't stress about it. I don't, either." I glared at him.
My husband recited the Lord's Prayer aloud as he pulled out his insurance card to check our deductible.
When my speed crept up on highways, Steve pointed out that he never exceeded posted limits. I reminded him, however, of his chronic lead foot within the city. We exercised lots of Christian concern in keeping the record straight.
Related Topics:
Abilities, Affirmation, Conflict, Disagreements, Humor, Patience
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creighton prawat
Thanks for the tips on auto-sanity, I will give them to my spouse I am sure she would like them. cp
jide ologun
I every relationship that must be effective, respect for individual differences with trust to field the diiferences for mutual benefits is crucial. It is said that every man speaks well of himself" let us also feel well and speak well of others, despite their differences. Aint we all different? i mean unique?
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