backseat driver

There are times in our marriage when I've been accused of being a bit of a control freak backseat driver. I have to admit that when Matt is at the wheel, I tend to get a little critical (or in my own defense, freaked out). I don't want to point out all of the little mistakes that I feel he is making, but when I sense that I am about to die, or that I see something he doesn't, it's only natural for me to scream bloody murder.

Now don't get me wrong; Matt is a responsible driver (ahem, when he's not trying to use his crackberry at the same time - and I have a story about that, too). It's just that I am also paranoid. So, someone could be putting on their brakes 1/2 a mile up the road, and if Matt doesn't break immediately, I'm screaming or hiding my face in my hands - freaking out - much to Matt's chagrin. And traffic makes it worse.

Ask Matt about the last few times we have gone to Houston to visit my sister and her family. From the time we hit Houston traffic till we pull in her driveway, we are both pulling our hair out. I think this last time I told Matt, "I just don't think you are driving very defensively!" (And what a civil way of putting it!) I think his response was something along the lines of, "Ughhhh!" He is always faithful to remind me that he drives every single day without me, and that he hasn't had a wreck since he was 17. Still.

Anyway, I am pretty sure the intensity of my paranoia is a big part of the problem. Next time I feel like I am about to die, I should probably pray first, and then if I still feel the need to scream bloody murder, I'll have at it.