I would not have chosen to be the one to teach my children to drive, but Nigel has a better alibi, with a full-time job a long commute away.
“But nurturing learner drivers is in conflict with my anger management technique,” I plead.
In general, that technique consists of a quick shout. In fact I’m not sure that you could call it anger management. Maybe just anger. Nevertheless, I don’t have the necessary commitment or stamina for sulking, so it’s what I do.
However, it’s not good news to get red and furious when trying to work out a route back to the roundabout which we just left at the wrong exit, not profitable to shout accusations as I attempt to prevent us from taking the slip road onto the motorway.
After weeks of driving practice, finally I think I am beginning to grow up and master my wrath.
Then yesterday, I managed to get into a contretemps with one of the twins. After a near miss in the town centre, they were clearly expecting recriminations and I failed to deliver.
“I’m not going to argue with you now – we’ll do a post mortem later.”
“But how am I to learn if you don’t tell me?”
“We’re both a bit stressed just now.”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong did I?”
“JUST BLOODY WELL DRIVE THE CAR!”
Equilibrium restored, we were able to move on in peace.
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