Driving Miss Janny - August 17, 2019
(Note: The pic below is of hubs Laur and an expectant me and kids Anna and Tommy -- before I learned to drive. Might my learning to drive be the reason Laur and I went gray? 😊)
This past few months has required my husband to assume two new roles.
The first is chauffeur. With my broken collar bone, while I physically could drive while injured, it’s in everyone’s best interests if I don’t. I’ll leave it at that.
The second one is driving instructor. I have to say that my hubs is the least likely person I know that I would ever ask to teach a person how to drive. He always has a negative running commentary and has been known to use expletives in parking lots! Very different from my Dad, I must say.
And yet, knowing this, our son Tom asked Laur if he would like to teach Julie (Tom’s wife) to drive. And Laur has been and continues to be truly happy to do this. Laur has become a parking lot aficionado – finding the best ones for various tasks. He even bought four construction cones to aid with parking. (I thought it might by for pylon racing – but I get things wrong on a regular basis.) And Laur is gleefully having Julie drive down country roads. What?!
*****
Laur was later in life when he got his license – an old man of 25. We were volunteering for the Anglican Church for a year and this Lay Order needed Laur to be able to drive people and things to various places. My husband drove the school’s van into the local small town – unlicensed – and took the driving test of about 15 minutes and came back licensed.
It gets funnier – only in retrospect. This was also the year he realized he needed glasses. He’d be driving down the 401 en route to the church our group attended and would be asking me to read the signs. Finally he went to an optometrist and the doc said to him in amazement – “You’ve been driving like this!? You shouldn’t even have been walking!” I think there is a place on his license where it says MUST HAVE EYEGLASSES TO DRIVE!
Me, I never intended to learn how to drive. I don’t even like being in cars, let alone want to drive one. I’ve never gotten over the realization that these things we call vehicles are massive tons of metal hurtling along side – and sometimes crashing into - each other.
And my fear of driving didn’t matter when we lived in Hamilton. There was a bus every 10 minutes and Anna and Tommy enjoyed riding the bus – especially up the Hamilton mountain. It was the poor family’s answer to Canada’s Wonderland’s roller coaster.
We subsequently moved to Sudbury and I still didn’t want to learn to drive. We bought a car – the buses no longer came frequently and in our first few years there “minus 40” was not unusual. But Laur needed the car to get to work and I had a very dear friend LV who would pick the kids and me up for exercise classes and various errands. (Thank you LV!)
But then I got expectant with child #3 and realized – only having two hands – I would never be able to leave the house again if I didn’t learn to drive. But there were a few complicating factors. Laur could only teach me to drive with the kids in the car. And my personality is such that if Laur “commands” me to turn left, I’ll turn right “because I can if I want to.” This is not a good attitude to have on the Kingsway in Sudbury, trust me.
One time my parents were up, and Anna and Tommy rode with them in their car to and from church. A great time for me to practice with only my hubs in the car. Laur drove to church since – as always – we were running late. But I was driving back. My Mom said to my Dad, “I bet he’ll come back wearing that steering wheel around his neck.” She wasn’t far wrong.
Oh right, I forgot to mention the second complicating factor. Our Mazda was a stick-shift. Why we ever bought a stick-shift two door car, I’ll ever know. I expect it was the cheapest car on the lot and Laur was fed the line about it being cheaper to drive than an automatic. I ultimately don’t regret it. I can now drive stick-shift – a good skill to have maybe? – but getting there was not half the fun.
That same Sunday afternoon, my folks were happy to watch the kids while Laur and I went out on the road. We were backing out of our driveway and Laur said, “Gun it!” And I did…and I drove into my Dad’s car. I had neglected to put the car in reverse. Of course I thought this was entirely Laur’s fault. My Dad came rushing outside – his beloved Chrysler possibly ravaged by a used Mazda. He inspected the damage and – seeing none to HIS car – smiled and said, “Tin against steel.”
It was at this point though that Laur and I decided that perhaps buying driving lessons for me might be a better way to go. Yes, it would be expensive – but a temporary divorce and remarriage would be more so.
I took to driving with my new instructor like a duck to water. I felt like a “natural” but it really was that a) he wasn’t allowed to get gruff with me and b) it was automatic transmission. Easy peasy.
Once I felt I had mastered the stick shift and I could drive Laur around without his holding onto the dashboard – I kid you not – I was ready to take the test in our standard. You might be wondering where our kids were in all of this? Stuck in the backseat – likely bribed with chewing gum and threatened with “if I have to pull this car over…”
By the time I took my test, I was very GREAT with child. I could see the look on the tester’s face. He thought I was going to “pop” while doing my testing. I thought I did a formidable job and was waiting for him to say, “Wow! You’re one of the best drivers I’ve had in a long time…” What he said instead was, “Do you know how dangerous you are?” And he failed me. Why? Because I was “clutching before I braked” and I was supposed to “break and then clutch.” He said to me in a severe voice, “You were ‘free-rolling’ on some of those hills!” I had no idea what that was but figured it was the equivalent of being a serial killer.
Laur and the kids were waiting back at the driver’s office and saw me drive in. Laur expected me to get out of the car just a-beamin’. Instead, I was crying a waterfall of tears. I was weeping so hard I soaked the front of the shirt over my very protruding belly. When I told Laur why I failed, he felt akin to an axe-murderer. He said, “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I taught you wrong. I didn’t know.” Those words normally never fall out of his mouth. So I had to forgive him. Also, I needed someone to drive us home - I was in no shape to drive. ☹
All is well that ends well. Laur relearned to drive and so did I. And the next time I did the test, I passed with flying colours. In my ninth month of pregnancy, I drove us to Timmins to attend a wedding and drove us back again. While we were polka-ing around the dance floor, folks stayed well away from us. And two weeks past the due date, our sweet Caro arrived. (I did not drive us to and from the hospital, in case you’re wondering. My gal pal LV actually drove us - a drive she will never forget. “Lauren, drive through the red…!!!” my hubs yelled. LV –- a maternity nurse as well as a taxi driver -- thought she might be delivering this baby on the side of the Kingsway!)
Actually, this didn’t end completely well – at least not for hubs. We had only one car. Laur needed it for work and I needed it for driving three kids around when the temperature dipped below freezing. You can guess who ended up taking the bus…
This past few months has required my husband to assume two new roles.
The first is chauffeur. With my broken collar bone, while I physically could drive while injured, it’s in everyone’s best interests if I don’t. I’ll leave it at that.
The second one is driving instructor. I have to say that my hubs is the least likely person I know that I would ever ask to teach a person how to drive. He always has a negative running commentary and has been known to use expletives in parking lots! Very different from my Dad, I must say.
And yet, knowing this, our son Tom asked Laur if he would like to teach Julie (Tom’s wife) to drive. And Laur has been and continues to be truly happy to do this. Laur has become a parking lot aficionado – finding the best ones for various tasks. He even bought four construction cones to aid with parking. (I thought it might by for pylon racing – but I get things wrong on a regular basis.) And Laur is gleefully having Julie drive down country roads. What?!
*****
Laur was later in life when he got his license – an old man of 25. We were volunteering for the Anglican Church for a year and this Lay Order needed Laur to be able to drive people and things to various places. My husband drove the school’s van into the local small town – unlicensed – and took the driving test of about 15 minutes and came back licensed.
It gets funnier – only in retrospect. This was also the year he realized he needed glasses. He’d be driving down the 401 en route to the church our group attended and would be asking me to read the signs. Finally he went to an optometrist and the doc said to him in amazement – “You’ve been driving like this!? You shouldn’t even have been walking!” I think there is a place on his license where it says MUST HAVE EYEGLASSES TO DRIVE!
Me, I never intended to learn how to drive. I don’t even like being in cars, let alone want to drive one. I’ve never gotten over the realization that these things we call vehicles are massive tons of metal hurtling along side – and sometimes crashing into - each other.
And my fear of driving didn’t matter when we lived in Hamilton. There was a bus every 10 minutes and Anna and Tommy enjoyed riding the bus – especially up the Hamilton mountain. It was the poor family’s answer to Canada’s Wonderland’s roller coaster.
We subsequently moved to Sudbury and I still didn’t want to learn to drive. We bought a car – the buses no longer came frequently and in our first few years there “minus 40” was not unusual. But Laur needed the car to get to work and I had a very dear friend LV who would pick the kids and me up for exercise classes and various errands. (Thank you LV!)
But then I got expectant with child #3 and realized – only having two hands – I would never be able to leave the house again if I didn’t learn to drive. But there were a few complicating factors. Laur could only teach me to drive with the kids in the car. And my personality is such that if Laur “commands” me to turn left, I’ll turn right “because I can if I want to.” This is not a good attitude to have on the Kingsway in Sudbury, trust me.
One time my parents were up, and Anna and Tommy rode with them in their car to and from church. A great time for me to practice with only my hubs in the car. Laur drove to church since – as always – we were running late. But I was driving back. My Mom said to my Dad, “I bet he’ll come back wearing that steering wheel around his neck.” She wasn’t far wrong.
Oh right, I forgot to mention the second complicating factor. Our Mazda was a stick-shift. Why we ever bought a stick-shift two door car, I’ll ever know. I expect it was the cheapest car on the lot and Laur was fed the line about it being cheaper to drive than an automatic. I ultimately don’t regret it. I can now drive stick-shift – a good skill to have maybe? – but getting there was not half the fun.
That same Sunday afternoon, my folks were happy to watch the kids while Laur and I went out on the road. We were backing out of our driveway and Laur said, “Gun it!” And I did…and I drove into my Dad’s car. I had neglected to put the car in reverse. Of course I thought this was entirely Laur’s fault. My Dad came rushing outside – his beloved Chrysler possibly ravaged by a used Mazda. He inspected the damage and – seeing none to HIS car – smiled and said, “Tin against steel.”
It was at this point though that Laur and I decided that perhaps buying driving lessons for me might be a better way to go. Yes, it would be expensive – but a temporary divorce and remarriage would be more so.
I took to driving with my new instructor like a duck to water. I felt like a “natural” but it really was that a) he wasn’t allowed to get gruff with me and b) it was automatic transmission. Easy peasy.
Once I felt I had mastered the stick shift and I could drive Laur around without his holding onto the dashboard – I kid you not – I was ready to take the test in our standard. You might be wondering where our kids were in all of this? Stuck in the backseat – likely bribed with chewing gum and threatened with “if I have to pull this car over…”
By the time I took my test, I was very GREAT with child. I could see the look on the tester’s face. He thought I was going to “pop” while doing my testing. I thought I did a formidable job and was waiting for him to say, “Wow! You’re one of the best drivers I’ve had in a long time…” What he said instead was, “Do you know how dangerous you are?” And he failed me. Why? Because I was “clutching before I braked” and I was supposed to “break and then clutch.” He said to me in a severe voice, “You were ‘free-rolling’ on some of those hills!” I had no idea what that was but figured it was the equivalent of being a serial killer.
Laur and the kids were waiting back at the driver’s office and saw me drive in. Laur expected me to get out of the car just a-beamin’. Instead, I was crying a waterfall of tears. I was weeping so hard I soaked the front of the shirt over my very protruding belly. When I told Laur why I failed, he felt akin to an axe-murderer. He said, “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I taught you wrong. I didn’t know.” Those words normally never fall out of his mouth. So I had to forgive him. Also, I needed someone to drive us home - I was in no shape to drive. ☹
All is well that ends well. Laur relearned to drive and so did I. And the next time I did the test, I passed with flying colours. In my ninth month of pregnancy, I drove us to Timmins to attend a wedding and drove us back again. While we were polka-ing around the dance floor, folks stayed well away from us. And two weeks past the due date, our sweet Caro arrived. (I did not drive us to and from the hospital, in case you’re wondering. My gal pal LV actually drove us - a drive she will never forget. “Lauren, drive through the red…!!!” my hubs yelled. LV –- a maternity nurse as well as a taxi driver -- thought she might be delivering this baby on the side of the Kingsway!)
Actually, this didn’t end completely well – at least not for hubs. We had only one car. Laur needed it for work and I needed it for driving three kids around when the temperature dipped below freezing. You can guess who ended up taking the bus…