The truth comes out.
In spite of my feminist streak, and my perfect driving record, the fact is, when my husband is in the car with me, I drive like an idiot.
I don't know what comes over me. I turn into this entirely different person; a helium head with naturally blonde hair.
I'll spare you the details, but my son has a bruise, my front yard is a mess, the curb in the middle of town has my rubber on it, and the jokes from my family will be rubbed in for a good long time.
Geesh.
;(
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