As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t drive nearly enough but yesterday evening CC persuaded me to take her to see the osteopath. The appointment was at 6.30 so the rush hour traffic would be going in the opposite direction and that gave me courage.

However, I insisted on leaving at a quarter to six for the (usually) ten minute journey. Butterflies didn’t start fluttering until we approached the metropolis as I began wondering where I’d be able to park. Fortunately there was a space opposite the doctor’s: one of those wonderful, individual spots with a tree each end instead of a car  and in a 30kph limit so it shouldn’t annoy the driver behind if you’re looking for somewhere to stop.

I pulled in but when CC got out she told me gently that perhaps I should try to manoeuvre a bit closer to the pavement as the back of the car was sticking out in the road. It was good practice and not too nervewracking with the trees as markers.

Now, it so happens there is a bar almost next door to the surgery and so we had plenty of time for a cooling fruit juice before climbing the steps and going into the waiting room. (I’ve often thought how difficult it must be for back sufferers to get up to the door for treatment).

He was running late as usual so it was after 7.30 by the time we got back.

“Where have you been?” asked Bear.

“To the osteopath”

“What, all this time. I don’t believe you.”


Today, it was Bear’s turn for a hospital appointment.

He drove, of course, and was still quizzing me about my escapade the day before. Suddenly, he was swerving into the bus lane (for buses going in the opposite direction!).

I shouted: he swerved back and nearly went through a red light but I called out again to stop him. Then  the car kangarooed onto the pedestrian crossing.

It took him a few seconds to regain control of himself and the car.

“It shouldn’t have done that. I had my foot on the clutch. Anyway, it was all your fault. You were talking to me.”

It really is time I put my foot down and insisted on driving more. But which is worse, being a passenger or having Bear as my passenger?

7 Responses to “Driving”

  1. BearNaked Says:

    Oh my goodness, how upsetting for you being a passenger.
    I think you should try driving more often.
    Just have some calming music playing in the car when Bear is your passenger.

    Do you know, I’ve never figured out how to use the car radio! I think I’ll just have to try and avoid having Bear as a passenger and go out on my own or with a sympathetic person at my side.

  2. Little old me Says:

    Make him get the bus

    Good idea – but unfortunately the bus service here is awful: just three a day, (timed for schoolchildren to get to Charleville) during termtime only.

  3. Z Says:

    I wouldn’t take him or be driven by him, frankly. Why did you have to go with him to the hospital?

    I have to go along to appointments with everyone – to translate. Whale is the only one in the household who makes an effort with French but, even so, he often doesn’t understand.

  4. tillylil Says:

    I think you would be safer driving.
    Better to have have ‘ear ache’ than end up under a bus!!

    You don’t know how rusty I am. I really lost all my confidence when I had eye trouble and it hasn’t come back yet even though the ‘new eyes’ are so much better.

  5. Z Says:

    What? Oh goodness. Get some earplugs – or better, an MP3 player – and you do the driving.

    How about a gag for Bear??

  6. guyana gyal Says:

    Bear is at his baddest-best again 🙂

  7. guyana gyal Says:

    I read this before I read the post, ‘Pulling Apart’ and now I don’t find this funny either. I’m still angry.

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