By Janine Milliken

I have just spent an hour in the car, in chaotic traffic with my mom and dad. I think I need a tranquilizer, some counselling and a whole day in bed.

It started with my mom sitting in the back, my dad driving and I was in the front seat. My mom moaned at my dad for a full 20 minutes about his driving until he flew over a massive hump. My mom who was in the back was launched off her seat and hit her head on the roof. There was silence. In amazement I said to my dad, ‘well hallelujah for that, let’s find another hump and we will ramp them all.’

When my mother had regained her composure, the back seat remarks started again. This time my dad argued back, so I have two bickering twits in my car giving me a worse headache. My dad gets road rage so between arguing, he was also shouting at other motorists and trying to avoid a concrete bin lying in the middle of the road.

On arrival at the Doctor, I flew into his office moaning about my parents but he would not let me leave them at his offices. My mom does think she’s a Doctor when she has been on google and my dad just thinks he is a genius and can do any job. I think that was a bit unreasonable of my Doctor not to give old age pensioners a day job at his offices, after all I have done for my Doctor. (lol).

From the Doctor we had to take my dad for blood tests at the Medical Chambers. The traffic was horrendous. My dad was driving as I was all drugged up and did not want to drug and drive. My mom is a granny driver and drives at 60k/hour, so she actually causes half the accidents. So off we go to the Chambers with my dad driving, my mom moaned all the way there…… wrong way, wrong lane, too fast, too slow, stop, go etc. My dad moaned back and I had two bickering twits in my car, and I am stuck in a confined space with them.

My dad managed to have all his blood taken and got his specimen bottles as well. Now we had to drive home. I am still drugged, my dad is faint and the only driver available is my mom. We all get into the car and say our prayers quietly and just wait for the moaning to start.

The traffic was bad, someone reversed into us but caused no damage. My mom was driving, shouting and hooting, my dad jumped out the car and nearly caused a riot by shouting at everyone, I got out and calmed everyone down and saw there was no damage. I dragged my dad back into the car, told him to shut his mouth and told my mom to drive now and get us out of there. Fortunately she can drive when she needs to and we managed to escape the crowd coming towards us.

However, my mom continued to moan and drive. Woman can multi-task. She got lost and kept shouting for directions, when we told her which way to go she argued with us. How can someone be lost, be given instructions and then argue with the instructions? We ended up at the robot that did not work and now my mom came to a standstill in the traffic. Like a little old granny behind the wheel she now started to panic and probably sat at the robot for 45 minutes. I told her to pull over so I could drive and I was sick of the drama. All we were doing was driving in town, not on a 4 lane highway and could she pull herself together. She started swearing at the other drivers, my dad started swearing at the robots and I sat in the back telling them both to shut up and just get me home. At this point I thought it would be a miracle if we got home and I would kiss the ground when I got home.

As my mom continued to drive home, her and my dad continued to bicker. Now when my children did that in the car, when they were little, I used to take off my slop, aim for the back seat and try find a leg to connect with. All I had on me was two empty (lucky for mom) specimen bottles, so I was hitting her on the head with them and telling her to drive and shut up. Eventually I advised them that when we got home, I was putting them in two rooms and they could think about what they have just said to each other. I told them they were banned from talking and will be put into the naughty corner.

I had to look in my mom’s handbag for a pill, but my mom is very protective over her handbag. So as she is driving, she slams on brakes, I hit the front seat with my head and she pulls her handbag to the front and out of my reach. There are cars behind us, we are on the main borrowdale road and my mom is worried about her handbag. Every time she slammed on brakes I shot forward and hit her seat.

When we turned onto our road that we live on my mom then stops and proceeds to go over every pothole at zero km/hour. We have about a hundred potholes. To try hurry her up I told her I needed the toilet urgently and it was a no. 2, so could she actually start moving the car forward, somehow. Purely by the hand of God we arrived home. On arrival I jumped out the car, kissed the ground and found my 2nd dad, Waired who works for us. I told Waired to please lock my mom and dad in separate rooms and do not let them out until they had thought about their attitudes. Should you ever need to torture me and get information out of me, put me in the car with my parents for an hour and I will tell you everything.

So I learnt that I am not driving with them together again. If my mom is moaning fly over a hump and bump her head on the roof, she stops talking immediately. Do not let my dad open his mouth in a crowded car park as we nearly got punched. Do not touch THE HANDBAG ever!

As I am writing this the google queen is talking to me and just advised me that one of my pills, that I have been on for years, is killing me. Google will disappear off this machine shortly and I will blame the stupid ‘flat top’.


Driving Miss Daisy....

Beautifully Broken
by Janine Milliken
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