Yesterday we had an afternoon of a torrential down pouring type. Manlet's baseball game was rained out so there was a practice called for later after school. I received a text from him letting me know about the cancellation, and that he needed to be picked up from school. I grabbed my keys, our one dog Finn (who loves rides), bid farewell to Sadie (who hates rides), and dashed out the door to jump in my Jeep that was parked nose first in front of our garage.
Since 9-11 baseball bats are now considered dangerous weapons by the U.S. TSA. Consequently baseball gear bags that contain bats are not allowed on our local school buses.
Manlet is a healthy 6'3" and 205 pounds soaking wet. He is big, he is strong, but he is also very quiet, extremely shy and ultra polite. The idea that our gentle giant would use said bat on another person is preposterous. The chance that anyone else could take a bat out of Manlet's gear bag to use upon others is equally absurd. The fact remains, however, that I must drive Manlet, along with his baseball gear, to and from school each day. At least until his sixteen birthday/licensing day this coming summer at which time he will gleefully drive himself.
After snapping on my seat belt and starting my vehicle, I turned on the headlights, front and rear wipers, my seat warmer, and the defrost as Finn was so excited that his breath was quickly fogging up the windows. I rolled down the back seat windows enough for him to stick his nose out but not enough to allow an inflow of rain.
Putting my foot firmly on the brake, I then put the transmission in reverse and let off the parking brake. Turning half way around with my left hand on my steering wheel and my right hand resting on top of the passenger seat, I moved my foot to the accelerator and began backing to my left in order to head up our U-shaped driveway to the right.
I suddenly heard a thunderous roar of an engine to my right. Whipping my head to look straight out my front passenger window, I could see my dear Aspergian Spouse's truck come flying down the driveway, his hot-rodding tires flinging gravel everywhere.
I immediately slammed on my brakes and hit my horn. The silver devil-truck continued to bear down on me. I continued to honk but my Spouse never wavered. I was able to stuff the tranny into drive, pulling forward just in time to avoid a collision.
Steve missed me by inches.
Steve missed me by inches.
As he backed up to his normal parking spot to my left, I rolled down my window. As he hopped out of his cab, I yelled, "Why didn't you stop?"
Yep, once again I blew my cool.
"What? Why should I stop? You aren't going anywhere. You aren't even moving!" answers He of little discernment.
"Why would you say that?" I demanded, huffy and pissed off. "I have to go get Manlet from school! I was in the process of backing up!"
"Why would you do that now?" respondeth The Hubster, lunchbox and computer bag in hand, and dashing towards the front door. "You never go anywhere when I'm pulling in!" he tossed back at me over his shoulder.
I then pulled forward to explain, but he was already closing the door.
I sighed and set off to get our kid. I mean manchild. I realized that I'd have to wait a day or two to explain it to Steve.
And to find something to laugh about the entire forty-six second event. After all, I could tell that my Hubby was on a mission.
His regular afternoon 'Get Home' mission. Heaven help anyone in his way.
That was close. I cant imagine the fallout if there had actually been a collision and his vehicle was damaged (nevermind you, we dont count). How sad that things are so bad that a baseball bat is a weapon. I too have a gentle giant son who at 16 was offered drinks at a bar (when he went to buy a coke). I am not looking forward to dealing with an Aspie and Alcohol mix come next Feb (when he is 18).
ReplyDeletewe've also stop counting, lol - our legal age here is 21, so i have a few years to go - my aspie stopped drinking a few years ago - it was too easy to self medicate & many prescriptions specify no mixing with alcohol - it has been a great relief...
DeleteThats funny because my Aspie hubby also made the decision not to drink a few years ago. He use to get so depressed and morbid when he drank and if he did go on a bender (usually aided by someone visiting encouraging him) he would be poisoned for days and very ill. He still comments how great it is to wake up on a weekend and not have a headache or yucky mouth. I dont drink and so we are hoping that not having it in the house will put the breaks on my son a bit. He had an episode of vertigo not long ago and was throwing up so violently that we told him that's what a hangover feels like. We do what we can.
ReplyDelete