Driving Mister Daisy

Driving Miss Daisy

I no longer have pity for Morgan Freeman. At least he was not married to Miss Daisy. AND – he got paid to drive her butt around.

I, however, am married to Mister Daisy (a.k.a. Hubby). Who does not thank me for driving him around, let alone pay me. I don’t want to rant about hubby too much. He is not a happy man with only 1/4 of his vision, and I get that.

So, I’m just going to explain (in a non-ranting way) how our lives are going these days.

Mr. Daisy hates me driving him around. He wants to do all the driving himself, but he is not allowed to since his eye surgery.

He doesn’t trust my driving ability. He hates staying awake on long trips because he wants to navigate me. Sure, I get lost and turned around sometimes, but I think this is what they call “the blind leading the blind”. It’s amazing we get anywhere.

The longer our drive, the “snippier” he gets. My TMJ is flaring up from the stress of keeping my mouth shut and trying not to cry. I don’t handle snippy very well.

My lack of depth-perception alarms Mr. Daisy greatly. He says I’m “running off the road”.  I say he’s not used to being on the right-side of the car. I know from personal experience that things look a lot scarier from there. He swears he feels tires leaving the road.

I don’t argue anymore. I just say “whoops!” and hope it pisses him off.


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