Today’s new thing starts with the statement:
“I love my husband.”
My husband, the guitar playing, laundry rockin', ace cook, cannot drive in downtown. He just can’t. When he does, it's like free scream therapy or the scary part of the roller coaster as you slowly go up cringing as you listen to the sinister click-click of the chain locking you in position. We just keep going around the same block, nerves fraying, knuckles white, face contorted in fear.
Part of the problem is that we drive a boat. I don’t know many cars longer than our Subaru Outback. We need to get something shorter – but haven’t gotten around to it yet. Normally it’s not a problem, but when you’re downtown, and it’s all mini/fiat/motorcycle spots, I really start to wish we’d gone car shopping shortly after moving to the city.
The other part of the problem is that my husband is too nice. He lets people get in front of him, waits while they take the spot that just opened up, refuses to stop and wait for another car to back out because there’s a car a block and a half behind him. It's just terrible.
We did it though, and now we have a resolution that, when we know we're headed downtown - I drive. I'm aggressive, I have good peripheral vision, and I know exactly how big the car is.
This scary adventure was all for the greater good though - Ferris Wheel pics!!