Thursday, 29 November 2012
Driving With My Uterus
I have been told so by an angry old man - in dialetto Vicentino - who didn't approve of my parking efforts (I didn't want to sit in front of the school in a double line of cranky mothers and was trying to fit into a spot). The man, probably a beloved grandfather who likes those veline (dancing girls) on Berlusconi's busty TV shows, rolled down his window and shouted at me,
'BUT ARE YOU DRIVING WITH YOUR UTERUS??'
Whoahhh. This was thrown at me at a time when I had four kids under twelve, in four different schools in four different parts of town (with different timetables so sometimes I would find myself alone, parked in front of a closed school gate - shite it's Tuesday). PLUS I was living 25kms out of town, packing the kids into my crappy Lancia before dawn, listening to Hey Yah at full volume to drown out the fighting. (And bear in mind that I started driving at seventeen and have driven all over Europe and nearly all the way to Timbuctu in Mali, and clock up 400+kms a week...And my name is McNamara and I am a redhead.)
Povero nonno. Poor Grandfather. While I controlled myself and didn't get out of the car, (recently, I actually opened the car door of a woman whose bumper touched my leg on a crossing, see below*) I lost it. You know when you are truly incensed? When something has snapped and there is no one to stop you and that b*****d has pushed you too far when your life was addled enough as it is??
What would you reply - if you have one - if someone told you you were driving with your uterus? (And this raises the inevitable question, Do men drive with their penises?? Perhaps Audi drivers do, yes? I fear we have another post here.)
Do you even have a penis or has it fallen off?
Do you even remember what a hard-on is?
I bet you couldn't even get it up to have your own kids.
I bet you have cancer of the penis!
I mean, gosh, I feel so low even to think of it. It sounds as though I have penis-hatred or something but I swear I don't - it just came out as a Uterus VS Penis match I guess. All in front of my kid's school.
Oh Lord. Oh Mummy. But I swear it was a stellar performance.
After that I collected my son and drove off to my mother-in-law's where we had caffè corretto and laughed ourselves off our feet.
* This cow - I was in heels on cobbles in the rain - comes hurtling straight at me in the middle of a crossing and I freeze, not knowing whether to leap, lurch or put out the magic hand. She just touches my leg. I stand there, incredulous. I wanted to smash her car but had a micro-flash of intelligent thought, No, I can't damage my piano hands. And, Maybe I'll get arrested. So I hobbled around, opened her door (I swear I didn't swear) and said 'What do you think you are doing?' And then, 'I am the mother of four children! Are you going to finish bringing them up?'
Che idiota. I welcome your road rage comments. Help me to feel normal.