Not Another Back Seat Driver!

I'm going to moan.

No, no, no! Not another back seat driver in the family! I can't stand it! It's bad enough Mr T huffing and puffing every time he gets into the car with me and cowering like some wounded animal and his sister hyperventilating and stabbing her foot down on an imaginary brake pedal but now I also have to put up with Master Sam moaning too. Yep, Master Sam ,who hasn't as much looked out the window for the last 18 years, unless it was to uncannily spot a MacDonald's sign, has taken to back seat driving as well. God help me!

Yep, Master Sam is not long off taking his driving test and suddenly he has become an expert in driving techniques, indicators, roundabouts... you name it has an opinion on it. It is sending me nuts! And being a bloke, he has the unhappy knack of being rather pedantic on the subject. I mean he has to go on and on and on...... until this morning Readers when Mrs T decided enough was enough. I pulled up my car and said;

"OUT!! Get out off my car! Out! Out! Out!"

And do you know what folks? When he got out on the pavement he stuck his fingers up at me! Outrageous! Now I have to admit that, fortunately, Master Sam was still rather cautious about using such a gesture at his beloved mother even in jest because he never quite knows how Mrs T is going to react - I could laugh - or I could run him over. You know - depending on whether I have PMT or not. Still, it was remarkably brave of him so I've decided not to punish him by hospitalizing this time because I have another cunning plan. Yes, the silly billy left his mobile phone in the car but alas my memory is failing so badly and I can't remember when I last saw it..... Ha, ha, ha!! He'll be sorry for treating his mother with such disrespect! Because well - A man without his gadgetry is like a lost forlorn sheep, wandering around in circles, day after day after day.

Vengeance shall be mine and shall be oh so sweet!

Hmm...It's funny how man can't find anything isn't it? (Well except what's inside their pants - which they seem to be able to find at a moments notice no matter where you are.) Yep, Mr T can have me looking for hours, days even, when he has lost something. My whole life must preoccupied searching for the one inch screw that fell out of his drill case sometime between 4pm and 5pm last Saturday afternoon.... And heaven forbid he should lose his work identity card! By God they might not let him into the building despite the fact he's worked for the same company for about 25 years, everybody knows him and he's an easily identifiable 6ft 6in ! Shocking!

On the flip side when I lose something. It goes like this;

"I've lost my car keys."

"Have you tried your handbag?"

"Yes, several times. Have you seen them anywhere?"

"Huh? (Fiddles with TV remote control.)

"Have you seen my car keys?"

"Oh right." (Pulls back ring of beer can.)

"I said, HAVE YOU SEEN MY CAR KEYS?"

"Great stuff. What time did you say dinner was?"

Huh. Men. Don't you just love 'em.

See You Soon,

Mrs T.

Ps: If you love or even if you hate Thomas the Tank Engine you can find out what I feel about noisy, rotten, greasy, no good blighter over at The View From Here.