AND I AM THE HUSBAND!

Anita has “passengerphobia,” when anyone else is driving (but her), she reacts with facial expressions and body movements you can’t believe. If the guest driver gets anywhere near the car in front, she doesn’t steer an imaginary wheel, noooo, but does she ever use her body and her feet. She is constantly braking and bracing her body for a crash. To put it conservatively, I was driving the car, but she was driving me nuts. By the time we arrived at our destination, we were both worn out from the stress. On that ride to the movies, Anita gave an Academy Award winning pantomine performance

So what did I do?…That evening, Anita was making dinner, I walked into the kitchen and supervised, “Careful,” I said, CAREFUL! You’re using too much oil and that’s way too much garlic.” “You are overcooking the rice”; then I tasted the soup and said, “needs much more salt.”

Anita stared at me and screamed “What in the hell is wrong with you! “After 62 years of marriage and pleasing your stomach, you think I don’t know how to cook anymore?” I said, “Honey, I just wanted to show you what it feels like when I’m driving.”

Soon after that feeble parody, we sat down to eat. In all the years Anita never cooked a bad meal… but I had no desire for food. I couldn’t help but wonder, was it simply because I had lost my appetite or had Anita gotten the final revenge. When she saw the leftover food on my plate was hardly touched, she shot me me a fore-finger, albeit a bandaged one, which made it look even bigger.