The one thing that my wife and I argue about

Arguments with my wife usually occur when we are in cars and especially when I am driving. She doesn’t think I am a good driver, so a lot of our angry exchanges are based on this premise: our vehicular deaths brought about by my poor road skills.

Whether this is true or not, I’m not sure. I make mistakes, but to extrapolate this upwards to maniac stunt driver, or downwards toward Mr Magoo style blind incompetence, seem unfair. These are the two sides of the argument:

  • Oh my god. Watch out!
  • I can see, calm down

A lot of her nervousness will come from the fact that she has changed position from driver to passenger. The passive partner in any journey, your control of the situation is non-existent. You are trusting your life to the skill, concentration and hand/eye coordination of another person. You are wholly controlled by the decisions that this other person makes.

I don’t know what this says about our relationship, that my wife is uneasy trusting my with her life. Whether this is a deader uneasy at my ability to navigate us through life, it only manifests itself during car journeys.

It may be my hope that this mistrust isn’t a symptom of something deeper, that I tend to put her nervousness and nonplussed reactions to my driving style down to a change in her relative position in the car. The passenger seat being closer to the side of the road means that everything from pavements to trees and cyclists looms much more in that side of the windscreen. The green blur of hedgerows rushes past mere metres from your face. For someone who’s used to navigating a journey looking at the centre of the road and the on-coming traffic this new position is disconcerting. You are too close to the side of the road!

In fact, one of her major complaints is ‘You’re too close to the side of the road!”. This injunction to panic is normally delivered when we’re travelling down country lanes. Roadways that, by their very narrow, windy nature mean the side of the road is encroaching, no matter what. To steer away from the road edge on her side of the car would be to introduce the front end of the car to the other edge of the road on my side.

My main fear in country roads is that I will meet oncoming traffic and have to reverse. Because reversing is not a strong point in my driving skills. When I have to, for instance around the occasional corner, maybe even a parallel park, but a 60 second journey backwards as I try to find a passing point – terrifying.

The second contention between my wife and I when I am driving is the distinct difference in our driving styles. That I am happy to drive down hill in a high gear, unless advised by roadside signage that this is a bad idea, fills her with terror. Steep hills are meant to be driven down in third gear or lower. While I concede that this is a much safer option, it’s much less fun. If she knew that occasionally I like to pop the car out of gear and let gravity pull the car down the decline, I imagine that divorce papers would be drawn up. As an aside to other drivers, yes I do realise that this is much more dangerous than other forms of propelling your vehicle downhill, it’s an infrequent treat, like doughnuts: it’s okay once in awhile, but every day and it’s becoming a problem.

The difference in our styles is probably best illustrated with our attitude to parking. My mantra is simple: between the lines is fine. If the car’s a little wonky, so what? As long as I’m not encroaching on other drivers’ space or creating problems for them either accessing or manoeuvring their cars, who cares?

The answer: my wife. She is happy to take the extra…however long it takes…to get the car bang in the middle of the space, equidistant from the white lines on either side. When I am driving, my lackadaisical approach to precision parking causes short bouts of intense shouting and the slamming of car doors when we exit the vehicle. My slapdash attitude to fitting the car perfectly in its allotted spot is partly to do with my reluctance to reverse unless entirely necessary and partly because I just don’t care enough about parking cars to give it the mathematically precise operation that she thinks it deserves.

Sexism dictates that men are good at parking and women bad. You might notice here that the roles are reversed. So does this make me the feminine element of the relationship and my wife the masculine? No. I would say that her need for precision versus my slacker, this-will-do approach reflect appropriate gender responses that people expect in other stereotypical husband/wife, man/woman exchanges.

For instance, the washing up. On the occasions when washing up liquid and water need to be poured and dishes cleaned (we have dishwasher, so this is a rarity), my wife will wash up, rinse the cleaned plates, stack them, let them drain, dry them and return them to their appropriate cupboard. She will them clear the plug hole of of food debris, wipe the sink and side, before returning everything to its allotted place.

I will do…most of that, but definitely miss at least one glass from the washing/rinsing phase. I will also not dry and replace any of the cleaned and dried crockery – I washed up, what more do you want? Meanwhile my food debris removal will be cursory, at best. And even if I did perform an industrial scrub down after washing up, there’s still the bloody glass. How did I miss that, how?

Come to think about it, there’s two things that my wife and I argue about.

Written in response to Daily Prompts: https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/argument/

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