Help I am turning into my husband

I think men are wired not to relax when a woman is on the driver’s seat. PHOTO | FILE

What you need to know:

  • Anyway, hubby does most of the driving, but there are occasions when I take the wheel, while he takes the passenger seat. He is a terrible co-driver.
  • My brother does that too when I happen to give him a lift, and once we get to our destination, he declares: “We would have arrived an hour ago if I was the one driving!”
  • After years of such annoying co-driver behaviour, lately, I suspect for the sake of peace, my husband is beginning to sit back and enjoy my (safe and calm) driving style. So much so that he sings along to music from the car radio and even makes business calls.

I think men are wired not to relax when a woman is on the driver’s seat. Once, I went to pick a guest from the the airport.

He comes from Europe, and he was all chatty and excited about our warm weather... until we got into the car, that is.

“There’s no taxi?” he exclaimed. “You are the driver?” He looked horrified, thoroughly confused and about ready to turn back to his cold country.

He held his breath throughout the drive, kept wiping sweat off his brow, his lips quivering, I’m sure in fervent prayer. He was, of course, no longer talking, just gesturing to me to drive on when I attempted small talk.

I navigated through the Mombasa Road traffic into town, wrestled with our crazy matatu drivers and finally parked at his hotel.

He looked immensely relieved as he offloaded his luggage, and almost sprinted away from my car.

UNWARRANTED ADVICE

Now, I can imagine this kind of reaction from a man somewhere in remote Kenya, but surely, from Europe? He has surely seen thousands of female drivers!

Anyway, hubby does most of the driving, but there are occasions when I take the wheel, while he takes the passenger seat. He is a terrible co-driver.

Instead of sitting there quietly, he tells me when to overtake, give way, take a short cut, and play ball when a rude driver tries to bully me off my lane, which always triggers an argument.

My brother does that too when I happen to give him a lift, and once we get to our destination, he declares: “We would have arrived an hour ago if I was the one driving!”

After years of such annoying co-driver behaviour, lately, I suspect for the sake of peace, my husband is beginning to sit back and enjoy my (safe and calm) driving style. So much so that he sings along to music from the car radio and even makes business calls.

I have realised something interesting, though. I am becoming the impatient and commanding co-driver he once was. The other day, as we were driving home in the evening, I kept issuing unwarranted advice.

“You should have taken that right turn, it’s shorter,” I said five minutes into the drive.

“Keep to the extreme left lane, it moves faster,” I said ten minutes later, and fifteen minutes later: “Si you move from the fast lane, since you are driving at 30kph…”

“Okay, do you want to take over the driving?” he eventually snapped, exasperated. It then occurred to me, horror of horrors, that I had turned into my husband of old!

When we got married, he liked to eat his fruits separately, not mixed like we do fruit salad. Of course I preferred fruit salad, and I would argue that fruits looked and tasted better mixed. Today, I prefer eating a fruit at a time, while he now swears that fruit salads look and taste better!

SEEING THE LIGHT

My friend, Fridah, was Catholic, her husband Mike a Seventh Day Adventist. They could not agree on whose church to adopt, so during the first year of their marriage they took turns worshipping in each other’s church.

Eventually, Fridah decided to adopt Mike’s church, only for Mike to inform her that he had decided to join her church.

They are Catholics now, but Frida still prays that her husband will “see the light” and rejoin his church.

It is said that married people tend to look alike as years go by; I think we get this impression because with time, they start to mirror each other’s behaviour.

From my experience, you adopt your spouse’s habits without knowing, and pretty soon, you start to have really weird conversations, which go something like: “It’s me who told you that!” “No really, I had told you that before.”