Damned if you do, and....

People have different talents and abilities, there's no doubt about it. And just as well, because it would be tricky if everyone knew how to bake bread, but no-one knew how to make flour. I'm pretty hopeless at dealing with people, but I'm very good at dealing with procedural tasks. Like navigation. I never make any claim to being any more than an adequate driver, but I am a good navigator, I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I've been lost in my life. On the other hand, my wife is very good at dealing with people, but could get lost in the long grass of our back garden. So when, this morning, it transpired that the only way she was going to be able to get to a meeting she needed to attend in another town, around 30 miles away, on time was to drive, she wasn't happy. She wanted to go by train, but hadn't checked the times, and when I looked the services up for her, because the rail journey isn't direct, and involved a change of trains with only an hourly service on the second leg, it was already too late for her to have caught the latest train from our nearest mainline station that would have made the necessary connection. So car it was. Seeing how unenthusiastic she was about the prospect of getting herself there, I offered to take her - after all, I'm just chilling this week, and had nothing else planned. But that wasn't right, because that was making her dependent, and she needed to 'do it for myself'. So I worked a route out for her, she wrote it down. In essence, it was a journey she'd done several times before, albeit with me driving, because her destination was only around half a mile from where her best friend used to live after her move to the West Country, a couple of years before we moved to Cornwall. And it all went well enough, because she rang me, 20 minutes before her appointment, to say that she was more or less there. Win.
After the morning's success, the return trip would be a breeze, of course. Well....no. That's where it's all gone tits up. In the last hour, I've had three phone calls from my wife, having 'the vapours' because she's got lost. Twice. Follow the outward route in reverse? Far too complicated, apparently. And, needless to say, it's my fault. Universal scapegoats are us. She's now 'lost her confidence', is 'never doing this again', it's 'bloody ridiculous'. Yes, it is. Ridiculous that an intelligent, 40-something woman can't follow the signs out of a large town, heading for an even larger town, without getting to the verge of a nervous breakdown. And without blaming someone else. Someone who volunteered to chauffeur her around, and was rejected. Please remind me how much fun this marriage business, someone.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B