The other day, I drove Wes to the mailbox in our neighborhood before we headed to the school to pick up the girls. (One of the perks of Fridays is sharing Wes’s day off and letting him share all the fun Mommy chores I get to do.)

When I pulled up about three feet away from the curb to let him out, he made a disparaging remark about my driving. So, when he got out, I threw the car in reverse, planning to move closer to the curb… and ran up over the curb in the process. Luckily, he wasn’t looking, so he didn’t know a thing about it.

Of course, I was laughing so hard when he got in the car that I ended up being forced to tell him what I had done. Prompting him to ask…

“Am I going to have to teach you how to drive?”

Insert my obligatory remark here about how I’ve been driving longer than he has, thanks to the two and a half year age difference I have on him, thankyouverymuch. Insert his obligatory remark about how those two and half years didn’t do much to help my skills. Grr.

As we were driving to the school, a woman driving in front of us was having a hard time staying in her lane because she was on her phone. Sigh. I told Wes, rather sarcastically, “Gee, maybe her husband should teach her how to drive, huh?”

Wes to me? “Yeah, he should.”

And with that? I’m anxiously waiting for the first time HE backs over a curb or talks on his phone while driving. Or something even better. Because then, I will tell him…

“Maybe you should find yourself a husband so that he can teach you to drive.”

Oh, just wait for it, y’all. It’ll be awesome.