By Ellie Behman
Depth perception has never been my strong suit. Gauging how close I can park to the car next to me in a parking lot is a struggle as I try to judge the distance between us. Then, when I exit my car, I can’t believe how I parked on an angle instead of straight between the lines. A toddler riding on a tricycle could do way better than that. I just chalked it up to being a nervous driver. Ron chuckles when I wait forever to pull out of the driveway. I never know how close the cars are so there I sit until traffic has cleared. Let’s not forget the mysterious scrapes on both bumpers that I finally had to admit doing. Okay, guilty as charged.
Despite of all the teasing I have gotten from those that know some of my idiosyncrasies, I thought I was doing very well as I returned home one day from the market. I slowly drove into the garage, making sure I had enough room between our car and the truck. Well, I missed the truck but heard a sickening crunch and felt a bump, and quickly realized I was way too close to the other side and had slammed into the recycle bin that was holding my outside mirror hostage. I was so worried about scraping the truck that I overcompensated and sacrificed the mirror instead. How did that happen? Who moved the garage? I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry so I did both. Instead of pulling forward to release the mirror from the mouth of the recycle bin, I put the car in reverse hoping the giant bin would spit out the mirror, but it snapped off quickly and flew everywhere. I watched in disbelief as the pieces scattered around the garage.
The words “no depth perception” pounded in my head as I gathered up the pieces to show Ron. He was right, doggone it, and I knew he wouldn’t let me forget it as he held his hand out for the car keys, wearing a look my dad would have had. I hung my head and muttered, “I’ve pulled the car in there thousands of times with no problem.” No one was listening to me.
Actually, this little mishap was a blessing in disguise as it prompted me to get an eye exam. More good news was waiting for me. The doctor told me if I were to take a driver’s test that day, I would not pass, as the results of the examination revealed cataracts. More ammo for Ron to use.
They say confession is good for the soul so I should feel so much better now. It’s been a couple of months since that day and Ron is true to his word as he promised he would drive me anywhere I would like to go. I came out of this dilemma a winner because I don’t know of anyone else that has their own personal Uber driver who is available 24 hours a day.
Ellie has been a freelance writer for more than 40 years and has written over 400 articles. She and her husband spend as much time as possible at their cabin where they enjoy the beauty of the surrounding area. This is where the majority of her writing is done as it is the perfect quiet setting for a writer.