So I’m driving out of my condo, which I’ve lived in for seven years. And mom panics, takes a deep breath and says, “Watch out … there’s a red light.”
I feel my body stiffen, thinking I’m going to be hit by some nut case when she tells me to “watch out.” I’ve told her about 20 times not to tell me to watch out when I’m driving because she scares the hell out of me.
When I said to her, “Mom, don’t do that. I’ve lived here for seven years and I know there’s a red light there. You scared the hell out of me.” She says, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m just used to driving with your dad.”
I told her that I wasn’t insulted, but that she was a pain in the ass. She looked at me and I looked at her and we both started laughing.
Then I shared with her that I do the same thing with my daughter. I tell her how to drive … and then she says the same thing to me. I guess being a pain in the ass just runs in the family. But if you treat it with humor, it’s not a pain. It becomes one of life’s pleasures.