Gloating is definitely worth $79 plus installation

Husband is an excellent driver. He can back a trailer with the greatest of maneuverability skills and has never been in an accident. Actually, he taught me to drive and I’d like to think I’m a decent driver, as well. Still, I’m a woman and sexism is alive and well when it comes to driving.

Last night, we went bowling with Sister and Sister’s Fiance, who will be known as D in this post. In order to sit in the back and watch some ridiculous video about farting, they wanted me to drive. On a side note, this video involved women sniffing each other’s farts and they used my auxiliary port to connect the phone to my car’s speakers. It made for an amusing drive, especially since I only had the audio side of it. Sorry to those of you who have a maturity level higher than that of a 10-year-old.

Anyway, I get stupidly self-conscious when I’m the driver and the boys are in the car. Both of them are critical of Sister’s and my driving skills and I always feel like they’re analyzing every move I make. This isn’t in my head. When we went over a set of railroad tracks a little faster than I meant, I saw the look they shared in my rearview mirror. You know, the one that says, “Only penises should be behind the wheel.” Sometimes they even make comments out loud. “Yeah, that’s why I installed the premium brake pads,” Husband remarked to D when I made a turn. Sister and I just roll our eyes and ignore the comments. There is some truth to what they’re saying and we know it. After all, I may never have caused a wreck, but I did pull the bumper off my old car by backing into a friend’s flower pot in their driveway.

This morning, Husband was driving and started to make a right turn to park on the side of the street. As he turned, I thought, He’s turning awfully sharp. But I didn’t say anything. A few seconds later, there was a loud thump as the right side of the car lurched onto the curb and back down. We pulled over to park and I stared at him in disbelief. He NEVER does anything like that.

“What the hell? Did you really just drive on the curb?”

“Whoops…” was all he said in reply.

“I never want to hear you mock my driving again,” I retorted.

“Oh, well. I’m sure it’s fine. I hit it on the flat part. There’s no way it did anything.”

I opened the passenger door and heard an unmistakable sound.


The look of horror and embarrassment on his face was completely worth any trouble the flat tire would cause. We got out and inspected the damage. Somehow, the curb had put a hole in the side wall.

Fortunately, Husband is extremely handy (he’s actually a mechanic) and was able to change the tire with no issues. When we got home, he looked up the price of a new tire and told me, “Well, I guess tomorrow when I get off work, I’ll take your car in to get two new tires.”

“Damn right you will,” I said. “You’re the one who broke it, after all.”

When we had those crazy windy storms a couple weeks ago, we lost our trash can. It was my fault because I left it outside and forgot it was out there until I saw it flying away as I watched through the window. Husband has been teasing me mercilessly since then, insisting that I owe him a trash can and I need to save my pennies until I can replace it.

He now says that we’re even. An eye for an eye, a trash can for a tire.



About Facetious Firecracker

I observe the world and say what everyone is thinking, but is too afraid to say.

Posted on July 15, 2012, in Humor, Random Stories and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 11 Comments.

  1. You do understand that the penis is instrumental in the operation of a motor vehicle. I believe it helps in the steering or something.

    This reminds me of how i felt when I was a drummer in a band. People would actually say to me “You’re a good female drummer”–a difficult thing to accomplish with my periods and stuff. I had never realized how much the penis is instrumental in drumming. I believe it hits the cymbals or something.

    • Well, you know what they say – never trust anything that bleeds for 5 days and doesn’t die. You just made me realize something about driving and drumming. Everything that’s required for those activities involves something phallic. It’s a conspiracy.

      Also, that fact that you’re a drummer just earned you +10 in my cool factor book.

  2. To be totally fair to your husband, the tire is only flat on the bottom…

  3. I knew from the first sentence things weren’t going to turn out good–reminded me of Rainman’s famous last words.

    My husband once ran over a curb at Dunkin Donuts, scraping the car alongside the menu speaker. I think I enjoyed that more than the boston cream donut I wolfed down later. That was the one and only time he’s ever screwed up while driving. But me? Well, he still won’t let me live down the time I parked in our garage, went too far and crunched a folded-up glass patio table into a million pieces. Course I still blamed him for putting the table there.

  4. {{You know, the one that says, “Only penises should be behind the wheel.”}} <–That was just too good! Great story, I hate driving with other people too, always feel like I'm being judged. 😉

  5. Hi! The important thing you did here is take a picture.

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