Sarjeet thinks he holds the record for surviving multiple myocardial infarctions in a single evening without medical help.
FOR the longest time, I was the only driver in my family.
Whenever someone finds that out, he or she will invariably ask: “You mean your wife can’t drive?”
My reply always is: “Yes she can. She can drive me up the wall.”
By the way, my wife does not read my columns. I hope she never will.
My older daughter, who is now 22, has never spoken much about acquiring a driving licence.
But that is still better than my dear wife who is the most disinterested person in the world I know when it comes to driving a car.
Whilst she appreciates cars (but hates my MINI Cooper S), she never felt the need to be in control of a car. I think it is because she already derives much pleasure and satisfaction being in charge of me.
But strangely, she also allows me be to be in in charge of my motorcycles when she rides pillion. She is a very confusing person.
My younger daughter, on the other hand, is more adventurous. She has kept my hopes up ever since she was sixteen, often saying: “Daddy, when I can drive?”
Though I thought she would start her driving lessons when she turned eighteen, she delayed it till last year when she turned twenty.
Time and space, as scientists know it, are different for ladies. If Albert were Alberta, we would have more time on our hands.
So, it was a momentous day when she passed her driving test last November. Better late than never, I always say.
The events that transpired later that evening would always remain etched in my mind.
At this rate, Sarjeet may pass out if his wife tells him that she also wants to get her licence.
I had to travel from my house in Changi to collect something in Bukit Panjang. That drive is long enough for my daughter to acquaint herself with my car.
I felt like a Traffic Police driving test officer when she was setting up her driving position. But unlike an examiner, I was more concerned about her damaging my car than anything else.
We took the Pan Island Expressway. I was not prepared.
“Keep in lane! Slow down! Brake! Watch out! Oh my god!”
There is no guessing who uttered these words. I suffered more heart attacks in those 90 minutes than any human being in the history of mankind.
AFTER SEEING MY DAUGHTER STAY COOL IN THE FACE OF MY PARENTAL OUTBURSTS, I NOW REALLY BELIEVE THAT WOMEN ARE THE STRONGER SEX.
But she remained as cool as a cucumber throughout my parental outbursts. I now really believe that women are the stronger sex.
Why the hell did my father allow me to drive on my own on my first outing after getting my licence at 17? Maybe he did not care too much about our Austin 1300.
My heart must have jumped out of my chest 10 times that night. But it was because I had overreacted. I am rarely a passenger in my own precious car.
From where I was seated, it seemed my daughter was drifting into the right lane when she was not.
She was not speeding, but I still felt she was – for a newbie! She did not brake till the last moment, but I needed to step on the imaginary brake pedal on the front passenger side because I was not in charge.
I am sure my god would forgive me for using his name in vain.
SARJEET IS ANTICIPATING ANOTHER ROUND OF “HEART ATTACKS” WHEN HIS OLDER DAUGHTER FINALLY TAKES TO THE WHEEL.