Driving Ma and Da to the theater; in the snow!

1/18/20 16:11 East Northport

It was an easy task.  Dad asked if I can check to see how long the play was.  I called the theater, it’s two hours and fifteen minutes the woman said.  Had her on speaker.  Dad made a comment that it will be dark by the time the musical ended.  Got it.  I took the hanging bait like a good son.  I offered to drive my parents to the theater in Northport, where they have tickets to see The Million Dollar Quartet.  It was a Christmas present.  It is snowing here and I thought it over, it would be better for me to drive them than let my eighty-year-old Dad.  The play started at 3 PM.  We live seven minutes away.  What time should we leave?  Dad asked and quickly answered himself, 2:30.  No, better make it 2:20 since we don’t know what the roads are like.  Dad was charging up his track phone.  I have plans to have dinner with Emma, and I asked, can I invite her over?  Of course, we love Emma.  But she’s getting over a stomach virus.  Ma said, I will wear a mask.  And she would.  Dad said, it may not be a good idea to have her drive all the way due to the snow.  We both know we’re only expecting an inch or two.  My first reaction, ever the controlling man, but this was out of concern for Emma Tess.  An hour before departure Dad calls up to me.  I was upstairs listening to a podcast.  “One hour before departure,” he said with a British accent.  Got it, I called down. I don’t like the accent and know he’s anxious.  I came down and he repeated what he said about Emma.  Got it. Yes, I will drive out there.  30 minutes before departure, the snow still falling, I was alerted to the time.  Not that I don’t have a watch or my phone can’t tell the time.  Got it, I called down and this was the way it was, but I did not come downstairs till five minutes before departure which was 10 minutes after the 15-minute warning call.  I was dressed and in the car, on-time. “Can you back the car out into the driveway so there’s not too much weight in the back and it clips the edge.”  Sure, I responded.  What did I get myself in for?  Ma sat in the front which is a crisis brewing.  Growing up the Lord’s name and all the saints and Mary’s would be exclaimed loudly if Dad or me dared to drive faster or hit a hidden pothole.  She’s a pack of nerves.  With good reason, she was in a deadly car accident when she was a teenager.  Got it, but it does not make it any easier.  And we get out of the driveway and I drive slowly on the snow covered street.  Ma suggests I take a left.  I go straight down the steep snow covered hill.  It’s just a coating.  I was mistaken.  The VW Jetta’s anti-lock or some safety device is not stopping the car and we were shimmering and sliding.  There was an oncoming SUV and it appeared we were slowly heading into an accident.  Ma was quick to remind me we should have turned left and added, “Like I suggested not renting a car when you arrived into Dublin.”  Passive aggressive comments and I was brewing while clutching the steering wheel.  Yeah, you’re right.   That drive in Dublin was the worst.   We made it on Main Street in Northport and Dad asked from the back seat, where do you want to pick us up?  Very good question, your father is always thinking.  That is true, we call that in business, being proactive, I said.  Ma adds, related to the word reactive.  I say, “If you are reactive you are reacting after the fact, proactive is what Dad is, he is making plans before I get there.  I will pick you up across from the theater.”  Just before we approached the theater, cars stopped and the car behind me jammed on his breaks and slid off, almost hitting me and a parked car.  I didn’t say anything.  Ma was shocked.  A blank expression.  She was silent.  Almost there.  Would you like me to pull over and you can cross the street? I asked.  Can you make a u-turn and drop us off in front of the theater?  I made my turn through a parking lot and was ready to boot them out.  Plans are to pick them up in front of the police station which is a two-minute walk from the theater.  I hope they enjoy the play.  I also hope there are no sexual innuendos or foul language since Ma may become offended, depending on her mood.  I’m not looking forward to picking them up at 5:15 or maybe I’ll show up at 5:20 or wait for Dad’s call.

Thank you for reading this.