Mothers Drive You Insane

(My mum can be very irrational at times, especially when she’s impatient or when something isn’t going her way. She also has a very bizarre concept of social graces; she thinks it is important to speak politely, such as saying please and thank you, but has no qualms acting in ways that most people would consider inconsiderate, selfish, or rude. This happens when we are going to the Chinese/Vietnamese Lunar New Year Festival. The festival is celebrated at many locations across the city; this year we are going to one we have never been to before. My mum wants to set up a stall on the street to help raise funds for the bilingual school she teaches at, and my brother and I (aged 16 and 20 respectively) have agreed to come and help. My mum is driving, and my brother and I are passengers. We are running 10-15 minutes late.)

Mum: *getting impatient* “This traffic is awful. We’re never going to make it in time.”

Me: “We’ll be there soon. We’re already in [Suburb]. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

(We continue to drive in this manner for several blocks, her complaining about the cars not moving fast enough, and me trying to assure her everything will be fine, but she only gets more and more antsy and impatient. We reach another red light, and out of nowhere, she loses it and turns off the car.)

Me: “Mum… what are you doing?!”

(My mum then GETS OUT OF THE CAR, goes and opens the boot, and starts taking bags/equipment/materials out.)

Me: “MUM! WHAT THE H***? You can’t just—”

(The light then turns GREEN, and our car is the first in our lane. My mum is STILL BEHIND THE CAR, taking things out of the boot, oblivious to the cars behind her angrily honking, and my brother and I yelling at her. She then goes around to my door and opens it.)

Mum: “Get out of the car! Both of you! Take this stuff to the festival and set up the stall for me!”

Me: “What? I don’t even know exactly how to get there from here!”

Mum: “Just HURRY UP and get out! It’s near my school. You’ll find it! You’ll get there before me with this traffic! GET OUT!”

(Not knowing what to do and desperate to stop the situation from spiraling further out of control, my brother and I hurried out of the car and stood there gaping on the street as our mother finally got back in the car, turned it back on, and drove away. Everyone was staring at us. The kicker? It was a ten-fifteen minute walk, and by the time we arrived, carrying all the stuff, confused and frustrated, we’d already gotten lost once and we arrived there AFTER her. She greeted us normally and acted like nothing happened.)

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