Carriage
ARNOLD WOULDN’T STOP hollering. He yelled at the traffic lights. He yelled at the pedestrians. He yelled at the cars in front of us and at the cars trying to pass us on the side. However, when he nearly hit the infant, it was me who started to shout.
I had told him not to try that maneuver, that the parking space was too small for our car and that the angle wouldn’t work.
In answer, Arnold had screamed at me to shut my yap.
I obliged...that is, until he nearly flattened the stroller loaded with the small passenger. After he finished forcing our car into a parking space, I made him hand me the keys and insisted that he find a bus to get to work.
I, too, left the car, not trusting myself to drive another centimeter. After closing the windows, locking the doors, and remembering
