No driver likes a backseat driver regardless of where they are seated in the vehicle. Backseat drivers are the ruin of a peaceful driving experience. They have a way of turning even the shortest trips into an exercise in anger management.
The worst type of back seat driver – bar none – is the teenage backseat driver who doesn’t even have a permit yet. It is one thing to have your driving critiqued by another licensed individual with years of experience, but to hear from a non-licensed teenager how you should improve your driving – well now, that requires me to channel Mother Teresa.
But even Mother Teresa has her limits. After the fifth criticism in under a minute from a know-it-all teenager even the most patient of drivers develop an eye twitch. There is something about the know-it-all teenager persona that while tolerable in short bursts on any number of other topics, is completely intolerable when it relates to driving.
My 14 year old, non-permit holding daughter Cheyenne believes that my driving warrants her critiques and that I am in need of her sage input. This is despite initially polite admonitions that I was confident in my driving ability. The admonitions soon turned to stern commands to stop commenting. And then came the eye twitch, which I believe is a physical sign that an otherwise rational person is about to explode.
Imagine hearing about your lack of driving ability on a daily basis for 15 minutes in the morning and 15 minutes in the afternoon…how would you fare? I am beginning to believe I will need to do more than channel Mother Teresa to make it through the school year – I may need to channel Jesus himself.
Oh how I await that glorious day when she is a mother driving her own teenager to school. Then, and only then, will she be able to appreciate the restraint I have shown by not just kicking her out of the car completely. Some things you have to live through yourself to understand fully. I know a gracious God will allow her to come full circle on this experience and will allow me the satisfaction of smiling knowingly. She will have long forgotten by then what an irritant she is being now, but not me – I will remember every single eye twitch.
But hey, I am not bitter. I am just finding ways to cope and where the value of channeling Mother Teresa ends, the notion of karma begins. So don’t be surprised if you see me out-and-about with a twitching eye, it will go away in a couple of years once my teenage daughter can drive herself places.
Day one thousand five hundred and twenty of the new forty – obla di obla da