Monday 23 November 2015

Backseat Drivers

I have a car, a valid driving licence and, not to blow my own trumpet too much, I'm also a bloody good driver. 

So for people to sit in the passenger seat of MY car and throw shade at MY driving is absolutely under no circumstance regarded as acceptable, and quite frankly I'd rather open the passenger door and boot them out than listen to their opinion of my driving. 

You may be asking yourself who has gotten me so wound up? The answer; my older much more condescending and egotistic brother, who also drives like a 90 year old OAP who wouldn't dream of going 1mph over the speed limit. 

*Quick disclaimer; I love old people, I really do. But I hate their driving...*

Now, this goes beyond the standard brother - sister banter that many siblings have. The only way I could describe the relationship between us was if I was to use the words 'Civil War'. 

We constantly feud over everything and anything that could be worth, and not so worth, arguing about (9 times out of 10 though it will be about the tv remote, and who's going to be in charge of it). 

Anyway, I digress. Going back on subject of backseat driving, my brother only this week agreed to get in my car and allow me to drive him after a year of passing my test. His simple excuse for not doing so before was "I value my life". The absolute cheek of it! 

But something must have won him round in the end, the jojoba and shea butter scented car freshener perhaps being just too tempting to resist. But boy, was that the worst car journey I have ever been on...

"Slow down Nicol", "you're too close to the car in front Nicol", "you're not checking your mirrors enough Nicol". 

I swear to everything holy that if my mum was not in the car with us at the time he would've found himself stranded on the side on the A34 en route to Oxford attempting to flag down another poor victim to listen to his agonising questioning and running criticism.
  

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