At least for a day, seeing as I haven’t driven yet, Eliza has fixed my road rage.
Since having children, this is yet another thing that has changed. When I first had Eliza, I thanked God that she couldn’t understand a word I was yelling (and sometimes cursing) at other drivers. When she started to talk, I realized she would repeat pretty much everything I said, especially if it made me laugh. Remember dammit?
Now, I have one repeater (Zach) and one “mommy” (Eliza). Eliza is very maternal, likes to tell people what to do, and likes to correct them. (I know you’re laughing right now if you know me at all.)
Last night, we were on our way to her very first dance recital, and I was concerned about not getting good seats, so of course, every other car on the rush hour road was a serious hindrance to my plans. I’ve changed, though, in the sense that I now simply talk down to other drivers instead of yelling at them.
“Really? That’s what you’re going to do? Thanks – a turn signal would have been nice.”
“Oh, please, cut in front of me, because what you have to do most certainly must be more important than what I have to do.”
Does this sound familiar to anyone else? I was in the middle of having some of these one-sided conversations with the people on the road. And Eliza said, “Mommy what are you doing?” And I said, “I’m just talking to the other drivers.” Then she said, in a calm and slightly condescending manner, “They can’t hear you, Mommy.” Of course Greg had to chime in, “I’ve been telling your mommy that for years, Eliza.”
Perhaps he has. Maybe it’s easier to learn from your innocent children than it is to do so from your spouse. But when she said that to me, for some reason, I didn’t want to respond with, “But it makes me feel better.” I didn’t have anything to say for myself. I was just quiet. She was right. They can’t hear me. From now on, I’m going to try to stop talking to them. I have no idea if it will stick, but at least for the moment, she has me contemplative and cured.