After over a year of being chauffeured around by my 18 year old son I should be used to it, right?! Wrong! Last night while riding home from church I realized why I'm so tensed whenever I came home. I can feel it all over my body. My neck is so stiff. I move as if I'm wearing a neck brace. I don't think the best masseuse can loosen the knot that's growing in my shoulders. Just thinking about my legs and how they're so sore upon the exit of his vehicle makes them hurt as I'm writing this. Why so much drama?! Not with my son, but his with momma. I figured it out last night. It's the brake pedal that's on the passenger's side. My side!
This brake pedal wasn't put in the car by the manufacture. Neither my son nor my husband install it. Who installed the brake pedal that I've used for over a year now and has cause such harm to my body? Some may say it's a figment of my imagination. But how can something that's so real or at least seems so real be my imagination. Could my imagination be running away with me? Of course not. It's real. I use it. Maybe my husband uses it too, but just don't want to admit it.
Maybe I just don't want to admit that my son is a young adult now and he knows how to drive. Maybe I won't admit that it's hard for me, a mom, too see him as a man developing into his own identity. After all, he did tell me when I address him and his brothers by trying to get there attention not to used the word "boys" But they are my boys. Ooops! There I go again not admitting that my son is a young man. Since I am admitting some things, maybe it's time I admit that I installed the invisible brake pedal.
"I installed my invisible brake pedal."