Driving Me Nuts

If there is one universal truth it is this; nothing sucks the fun out of a traffic jam like kids. I love driving, I love my Kids. I would rather feed myself into a garden strimmer than put the two things together. You see driving is my favourite form of catharsis. The inside of my car is the one place that I can shout obscenities at people without being punched in the face.

Generally.

The Wife recently noted that my own driving style involves loudly and angrily pointing out the idiocy of my fellow drivers whilst remaining blithely unaware of my own errors. I think she's half right. Allow me to give you an example of my driving philosophy. 

Disclaimer: if you drive a Volvo, wear gloves whilst driving, smoke a pipe or don't have opposable thumbs, THIS IS NOT FOR YOU

I reserve a particular hatred for people who hog the middle lane on motorways. The sort of hatred that most people reserve for serial killers, wasps or the Jeremy Kyle show.*  As a result of this I have come up with a brilliant way of dealing with them. First of all I catch up with them in the slow lane, carefully and safely (and more importantly - legally) move into the fast lane and overtake. When I'm a few hundred yards ahead I move back into the slow lane and then slow down to let them overtake me. Then I go back out into the fast lane, overtake and repeat. So in effect you orbit the offending car. Not only is it safe, its educational for the offending driver, and its bloody hilarious. My record is fifteen circuits around the same car. The only reason I stopped was because I'd missed my junction. The Wife hates this.

Now you might be thinking I'd be insane to do this with the Kids in the car, and that's my point. I don't get to do it when I have the Kids in the car. Put kids in the car and driving becomes mundane and dreary. At no point are you allowed to have the sort of fun that starts with; "WATCH THIS!" and ends with a car exiting a hedgerow backwards whilst on fire. And that first drive with your new born baby - there's no joy in that either. Its like driving with nitro-glycerine in the boot. The whole time you're expecting to get t-boned by an truck, or struck by a meteor, or have a giant eagle swoop down and fly away with the car (that might just be me). Only once have I been more terrified whilst at the wheel of the car which was this;

On a return journey we'd stopped to get ripped off at a toll booth. Whilst re-mortgaging the house for the  honour of driving through a tunnel I pointed out a mini-digger on a trailer in a neighbouring lane. The Boy loves diggers. Anyway, because I had Kids on board and therefore had to drive at the speed of glaciation, the truck with the digger on the back left the tolls before me. I thought no more about it until a short while later when the digger was literally flying through the air towards my car. The trailer had lost a tyre and thrown the digger straight up in the air and while everything went slow-motion and surreal as I swerved out of its way the Boy took this opportunity to say

"Look, dad! There's that digger again!"

As if was an every day occurrence. I failed to respond to this other than to say "shitshitshitshitshitshitshit."

The most you can hope for is a dull, mind-numbing journey because the alternatives are tantrums (bad), drawing on the roof lining (very bad) or vomit on the back of your head (I simply don't have the words). Yes, vomit on the back of the head. Whilst driving. And trust me, dads - when that happens you're the one person who doesn't get sympathy. And don't you dare suggest Eye Spy either because I'll quite happily track you down and run you over (assuming I haven't got the Kids in the car.) Have you ever played Eye Spy with a five year old and a three year old? At the risk of spoiling the suspense for you, the answers are always; "sky", "road" or "car." I've had dental work more fun than that.

*For non-Brits - Jeremy Kyle is like Jerry Springer but with far, far less class. Imaging smearing excrement on your television. Its a bit like that but with adverts.