Friday, May 9, 2014

The taste of American life

After moving to Manhattan, I often go out of my condo as if I have a motor on both legs.

The first test in the United States failed because I learned to drive incorrectly so that my right foot was on an accelerator and my left foot was on a braking in Seoul. In the United State, I went to a private institute to practice with one foot. I took a driving test, but the driver accidentally locked the key in the car, making a fail again.

I learned to drive a car from my husband. My husband taught me more comfortably than driving school instructor. The day of childbirth was nearly imminent, and I went to the driving test with a large belly. "If I don't get a driver's license this time, it will be harder to get a driver's license if I raise my child." I said to a driving tester. I passed the exam. Maybe he sympathized with me.

Whether driving is a personal history or not, all my family members are not good at it. Thinking of something, I passed by the stop sign. When I saw where I was looking, I was so excited that I suddenly stopped. I looked back and scolded the children who were in the back seat. That's why I had several accidents. I couldn't take the wheel any longer, thinking of my husband, who was nervous when I drove out.

Everyone in the family of marriage drives well. They are talented and enjoy driving. What's interesting is that if a husband who's annoyed gets to the wheel, he's as kind as a hired driver. He drove both children to commute to school from kindergarten to high school. When my kid was a teenager, He also drove children's extra-curricular activities so that they wouldn't have time to derail during puberty. When I went out, he also drive for me, so maybe my husband was a driver of our house in previous life.

Whether thank or sorry for his driving on a long time, children ride their bikes without hesitation. I am also free to go to places where I want to go with two healthy short legs without asking my husband because I am sorry anymore.

An acquaintance that said, "when I drive with sunglasses on and a audio volume up, I feel the taste of living in America." She asked me, who doesn't drive at all. What flavor do you live in America?

I live by the taste of snooping around Manhattan walk lively.

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