The Car Ride

Franklin D. Roosevelt once stated; “The only thing to fear is fear itself.”

Clearly, FDR has never ridden in a car driven by my brother.

Yes, my brother has finally gotten his hands on a permit, allowing him behind the wheel of our family minivan…or as my mom and I call it now…Deathtrap on Wheels (with a 10 year warranty and 6-CD player.) I will never forget the first trip I took in Deathtrap. It was Valentines Day. I remember that, because the words “Valentine’s Day Massacre” kept running through my mind. We were going to visit my grandmother. Matt decided he wanted to drive. After filling out my will, and calling dear friends and family to tell them that I loved them, I boarded the car and buckled my seatbelt. We backed out of the driveway. Another car was coming. I closed my eyes. This is it…

I opened my eyes. We were a little further out of the driveway, and there was that car— apparently it had swerved just in time and was imbedded in a tree across the street. A split second later, it burst into flames.

Phew! That was close!

Our car backed out of the driveway and began its journey. Over the highway and through the road construction to grandmother’s house we went.

I’d have to say having the entire family in the car during the trip didn’t help much. Dad was in the front seat, guiding Matt through the driving process. Mom was being the backseat driver and backseat passenger (and also backseat backseater). I was praying I’d go quickly and painlessly.
“Turn left here”
Enter Mom:
“No! Slow down! You’re going too fast around these turns!”
Enter me:
“We’re all going to diiie!!!”

Matt does alright on straight passageways, but turns are still a doozy for him.
Dad: “Ok Matt, you’re doing good. Now turn on your blinker”
Mom: “Stop turning the wheel! You’re going too far into the curb!”
Me: “We’re all going to diiie!!!”

Then there were stoplights. Matt did pretty ok on these…
Dad: Ok, you can get a little closer to the car in front of us.
Mom: No! That’s too close! Don’t barrel down on people like that!”
Me: “We’re all going to diiie!!!”

After about 10 minutes, I stopped saying ‘We’re all going to diiie!’ especially since each time I said it I’d jump up and reach around the drivers seat to grab onto his face, and that seemed to irk him a bit. Instead I’d sit there and stare sadly at my youthful visage in the reflection of the window while recalling old memories, or quietly whimper for the life not yet lived. It honestly didn’t help that Matt would laugh maniacally whenever he hit the accelerator.

But what’s this? We’re pulling into Grandmothers driveway? We’re all alive! I leap out of the car and kiss the ground. Oh how sweet the asphalt tastes in my mouth! Actually, it tastes rather disgusting, but the good kind of disgusting.
Still shaking, we knock on Grandmother’s door. She opens it. She gives us all a welcome smile, and hugs and kisses. She then says:
“Ah! Just in time! I made my leftover loaf for dinner!”

“We’re all going to diiie!”