Driving Mr Pricey

I am experiencing the worst form of back-seat driving. The following is not a fictitious account and the persons in this drama are real and bear extreme resemblance to me and my 2.8 year-old boy. I have attempted here a transcription of what happens to me at least twice a day.

Scene: I am on the wheel, boy is behind me in the car seat.

Mamma, don’t fall my paani!

(That’s me driving over a speed-breaker.)

Sorry  I fell your paani, but the road is full of potholes. How to drive? (I attempt a change of mood, and sing a cheery song)

What’s that noise mamma?

That’s me, singing.

Mamma. Don’t sing.

(I continue)

Mamma! Choo choo times I told you don’t sing!

(I stop singing.  Suddenly there is a stretch of open road. Fourth gear, here I come!)

Mamma. Why you doing car-racing?

No, I am not doing car racing.

No, you doing car-racing. Look, mamma, you boke my cheese toast!

I had nothing to do with it. It was Re misjudging his bite.

Mamma, whose house that?

It’s HSBC’s house.

No, mamma, it’s not a house, it’s a bank!

Okay then.

Mamma, stop. I counting windows.

I can’t stop here, it’s peak traffic!

Just then, a car nicks me on the left while trying to overtake. I lose it.

Ben—–ten! I say.

Mamma, I told you don’t shout!

But I am not shouting at you. That uncle broke our side mirror.

Contemplative silence.

Mamma, I want to keep my bag on my lap. Please gimme my bag.

Bag is on lap. Along comes a bump. Car jumps.

What’s that noise mamma?

I decide to beat it at his own game. It’s BAD TRAFFIC noise. Suddenly I shout, GO AWAY, BAD TRAFFIC!


And thus, another trip to school is accomplished.



6 thoughts on “Driving Mr Pricey

  1. hey lalilta, read your blog for the first time. They are hilarious. started with one and then kept reading…. Could relate with them, so well 🙂

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