I've never driven my parents van through the Bronx

Now I'm starting to regret that I sent an email to all my friends announcing "Hey - I'm going to do fascinating stuff each day and write witty and telling commentary on all the new epiphanies I'm having!" because both today and yesterday have kind of been lame in the department of epiphanies.

Today my parents and I drove down from their house to the City to deliver and assemble my newly constructed armoire. As usual, everything took longer than it should have and we got on the road later than anticipated. My dad was feeling really sleepy on the drive, so I volunteered to take over the driving, ignoring my Mom's raising of her eyebrows at this suggestion. My mom and dad are both sort of nervous passengers/drivers, but they have a system that they've worked out after over 40 years of marriage where my dad is behind the wheel, but they kind of co-drive the vehicle. It seems to put them both at ease. So when I got behind the wheel, it really messed with the system, and they both felt like they needed to become backseat drivers. My dad was worried that I was not staying in my lane, and my mom was very adamant that I not tailgate (i.e. - stay 650 miles behind the driver in front of me so that she doesn't need to slam down on her imaginary passenger breaks). This was all going fine, and I was laughing a little at them, but then our GPS directed us to get off the Saw Mill Parkway and take Broadway all the way down from 230th street to 99th street. Why the GPS didn't think the Henry Hudson would be more direct I don't know, but once we got into the Bronx is when true hilarity ensued.

I think both my parents nearly peed their pants every time someone cut me off, which was approximately once every second. Not to mention the constant jockeying of lanes you have to do to avoid the left turners in one lane and the double parkers in the other. It really is a nervous passenger's nightmare. By the time we reached the 160's or so, I got fed up and just followed some signs to take me onto the Henry Hudson, but as I was merging I nearly took out two other big vans, and I think my parents really did pee their pants at that point. We made it to my apartment unscathed, but both Mom and Dad needed to lie down for a minute to recover from the experience. And in their defense, I'm not a horrible driver, but I ain't great either, so they were probably mostly justified in their terror.

I had big plans to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge today, or at least see the Waterfalls Installation downtown, but by the time we recovered from the driving, put together the armoire and ate dinner it was too late. But tomorrow - tomorrow I'm going to change to world and move mountains and write such gripping social commentary that it will surely be published immediately in literary journals. Either that or I'm gonna, like, try a new flavor of chewing gum.