Saturday, November 05, 2011

Living in a Comic Strip

I swear to God, so many times I feel like I am living in a comic strip, or a sitcom. I was going to say the Brady Bunch, but I'm missing several kids, a new husband, Alice, and Tiger (although did anyone notice that Tiger just disappeared after awhile?).

Mark has his permit. Which, naturally, means that he is rabid to drive. Being the Awesome Incredible Mom that I am, I try to let him take the wheel as much as possible.

Have I mentioned that I just got a new(er) car??

The title finally came in, I got it registered, it is officially the new markiramobile. Mark loves driving the new car. Whenever I am supposed to take him someplace or pick him up, he makes sure to ask me to bring the new car (I keep telling him that the Impala is now the primary vehicle, that he doesn't have to keep saying that, but he wants to be really, really sure that he'll have the chance to drive it).

So, Tuesday we were going to Kira's practice, and naturally Mark was going to drive there. I had at that point had the car registered for less than a week, after waiting 19 days for the replacement title to come in. -I- was still eager to drive the car as much as possible, but I remember what it is like to have your permit, to finally after years of dreaming about it, be able to be legally behind the wheel, to have the power of thousands of pounds of metal in your hands.

We're in the driveway, Mark adjusts the seat, the mirrors, responsibly makes sure that everyone is buckled up, puts his foot on the brake, puts the car in gear, rests his right hand over the back of the seat as he turns around to watch behind him to back out of the driveway.

At which point I look over at the dashboard and, in increasingly frantic tones, say:

"You're in drive...You're in drive...YOU'RE IN DRIVE!!"

I spent the rest of the way to Kira's practice in some vague semi-hysterical state between laughter and not-quite-crying, realizing that my new car, that I have been waiting and waiting to get, was almost a prop in a cartoon cliche of a beginning driver barreling into the garage door instead of going in reverse.

Seriously. Comic strip life. mk

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