Learning where exactly you fit in with the family you acquired by marriage is complicated. When I was first married to Robert, I usually quietly observed the goings-on at family gatherings. As nice as everyone was to me, I still felt like an outsider. That’s not the case now. I’m drawn into the craziness just like they all are. The same jokes that make them laugh seem funny to me as well. I understand their context in a way I couldn’t have several years ago. The same arguments that inevitably start up every time we get together draw me in just as much as they do anyone else.
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A recent study determined that Seattle has some of the worst traffic in the U.S. but also some of the politest drivers. Obviously, the people conducting the study did not encounter my husband on the roadway.

He thinks he is a really good driver, safer than most people out there. When we ahem ?discuss? his driving, he brings up his superior vision, alertness and quick reflexes. Perhaps these things do make him a good driver. Who?s to say? It?s true that he has not been in an accident.

All I?m really certain of is he?s a particularly aggressive driver and most people who ride with him end up clutching white-knuckled to anything they can get a hold of: the door handle, headrest, suicide bar and each other.

Moreover, the mere fact that we?ve come up with code names for some of his maneuvers might suggest that something?s not quite right. ABC.123 (mimicking the format of citations for the Revised Code of Washington) refers to Robert?s strategy of pulling into right turn only lanes, not to turn right, but to pass someone on his left as they proceed through an intersection. One of ?Robert?s Shortcuts? usually involves driving madly through narrow side streets, dark alleys and parking lots just to get around someone he was stuck behind on a major thoroughfare. ?I can?t drive 55? would make a perfect motto for Robert. He relishes passing sports cars on the freeway in our ?grocery-getter,? i.e. Toyota Corolla. ?Road Rage? doesn?t begin to describe the degree of Robert?s anger when he?s held up in traffic. He goes ballistic.

I?m frightened that the only way he?s going to learn to be a more patient and cautious driver is to get into an accident. I can?t tell you how many ways I?ve tried asking him to slow down, put more room between us and the car in front of us and to not get so upset at the stupid things other drivers do. He?s unwilling to listen and if I do force the issue, we usually get into a horrible fight. I don?t know what to do. Sometimes, it?s hard caring so much?