Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Taxi Cab Confession

We've lived on the Main Line in our current home for 5 years now. And yet, my husband has trouble navigating from point A to point B on the Main Line. We're transplants, but still, its been 5 years. I asked him to drop my older son off at a friend's house in Wayne last weekend, a home that we have been to as a family many times for play-dates, dinners, and parties. A home, I might add, that I have had him drop off and pick up my son from before. He looked at me with a blank stare. I could tell he was nervous to ask, but he had no idea how to get there. After the appropriate amount of eye-rolling, I sent him out the door with detailed directions; knowing that he still had no idea and would plug the address into the car navigation and Google on his phone. Why does this man have no idea how to get anywhere outside of the 1 mile radius of our street?

But as I was driving today from Spanish class in Rosemont to soccer in Bala Cynwyd, I realized that my husband can't get anywhere, because he never goes anywhere. He drives the same 1 mile stretch every day to and from the train station; if there was a track, the car could drive itself. Meanwhile, I've spent the past 5 years driving the Main Line, from one end to the other. I shuttle my children, myself, and groceries to and from all points on the Main Line. I've worn a path between Wynnewood and Bryn Mawr getting my kids to school. I may spend the morning in Ardmore, but need to be in Radnor 10 minutes later. I've found the fastest route to pick up our sitter in Villanova, and a quick back road to the Country Club in Gladwyne. And I can get to Target in Plymouth Meeting without ever getting on the Blue Route if there's traffic. I confess, maybe I was a little hard on my husband. And maybe I shouldn't consider myself so much a talented driver, as just a taxi driver.

When I first moved here, I thought it was charming that I would always see someone I knew on the road. What a great community to live in where you see your friends and neighbors next to you at a traffic light or passing you with a friendly honk or wave. Now I realize its because all of my mom friends are all driving the same routes from one end of Lancaster or Montgomery Avenue to the other. We are all just working our part-time jobs as taxi drivers and the light is always on.

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