Driving Miss Daisy?

I got the phone call early, or late by my mother's standards, Wednesday night. Apparently, her Mobile Meals partner had ditched her and Mom was in need of a replacement.

Seeing as how I generally work at the drugstore in the evenings, my wife volunteered me for the position. She said it would give me something productive to do. I already had something to do. And productive is a relative term.

So I found myself driving Mom around in what is to be my son's car, should he survive to be 16.

"You're speeding," my mother said, for the third time.

"I haven't left the driveway, Mom," I said.

I made a beeline for the school that serves as headquarters for Mobile Meals. We got the car loaded up. We got our directions and headed out.

I knew we were in trouble when she started flapping her arms, telling me turn right. She had told me to "head to Lexington Street." That WAS where I was going. She never said which part. Lexington is a long one.

Whew... First house, check. As I backed out, she informed me we would be heading right. I began turning the wheels and backing out, angling the car to the right.

"No," she yelled. "The other way! The other way!"

I felt the need to inform her that we were both facing the same direction.

"That was your right, too, you know, Mom," I said carefully. I started to think I might know why her usual partner had failed to come through for her today.

Another house later, I received the "you're speeding" comment for, perhaps, the sixth time. Strange the way her comment caused me to swerve somewhat erratically.

"My usual partner and I don't drive anything like this," she complained.

"Think it was a badger," I said. "Crazy badgers! Did you see it? No? Really? Must have been a badger in the road... Or a real ugly dog. Maybe. Kinda."

She gave me 'the look.' You know that look that mothers give you when they think you're up to no good. I suspect she didn't believe me.

We were about five houses into our little sojourn when I realized one bag of food wasn't tied. I tried not to notice the peanut butter crackers as I picked up the bag to tie it.

"Get out of that bag!" she said, sneaking up behind me. "If you're THAT hungry, at least wait until the next house. He's blind and probably won't notice."

I glanced back at her over that comment. Did I detect sarcasm? Possibly. Was I being tested? Most certainly.

The climax of our delivery experience came toward the end when she told me to "turn right up here. Head toward Eastchester." I started the turn at a subdued pace.

"Oh... Shoot," she exclaimed. "We're going in the wrong direction. Turn around."

My right turn turned into a rather large counter clockwise circle in the middle of a four-way stop. I had just reached the end of my circle and was about to head back in the opposite direction.

"Oh. That WAS the right direction after all," she said.

I continued on my circle, finally heading the car in the right direction.

As we approached our final destination, I had my epiphany.

"Ya know, Mom," I said, "maybe you should lighten up... You can't afford to lose another driving partner."