Back-Seat Mothers

(My mother is an incredibly nervous backseat driver who insists on sitting in the passenger seat when somebody else is driving. My parents have asked me to drive them downtown to get on their cruise ship. It’s an incredibly busy time of day, so I’m nervous enough as it is. It’s a warm, sunny summer day and the roads are perfect.)

Mom: *gasp of horror*

Me: “What happened?” *looking around to see if I almost hit something*

Mom: “Sorry, that guy in the next lane was pulling up next to you.”

(A few minutes later:)

Mom: *gasps again, starts slamming an imaginary brake*

Me: “What is it?” *looking around again nervously*

Mom: “Sorry! I didn’t know if that car was stopping at that red light.” *she points way ahead*

Me: “Mom, please calm down. I’m nervous enough as it is.”

Mom: “Sorry, I’ll try.”

(A few minutes after that I’m cautiously driving through a major intersection. I pull into the middle of the intersection.)

Mom: *screaming frantically* “[My Name], WATCH OUT!”

(In an absolute panic, I slam on the brakes hard enough to slightly skid. My father and a friend in the backseat get coffee all over themselves, horns start blaring behind me from the abrupt stop, and we’re all thrown forward into our seatbelts.)

Dad: “Oh, my god, what happened?”

Me: *looking around frantically* “I don’t know. Mom just started screaming. Mom, what was it?”

Mom: “…”

(The car behind us honks again; the people in the next lane are passing us and staring in confusion. Luckily the light is still green.)

Me: “Mom, what?”

Mom: “…that guy up ahead turned his signal light on. I thought he was going to change lanes.”

(The embarrassment seemed to fix her though; after realizing how psychotic she was getting, she’s been much better ever since!)