This is a momentous weekend in the Mitch household. Mrs. Mitch is at driving school this weekend. The Mitch family will finally be behind the wheel. Yes that’s right. I am openly admitting that we do not drive in the Mitch family. Mrs Mitch and I are both in our early thirties and we do not drive. At this point in the conversation most peoples response is mild shock “how do you not drive?” followed by “I don’t think I could survive without a car!” So for today’s blogisode lets explore why it took us so damn long to get driving.
I would have to say honestly cost has been one of the biggest factors to us not driving. When we first got together Mrs. Mitch and I were scraping by living together at the age of eighteen working crappy low paying jobs, living in a crappy one bedroom apartment. Right now your’re doing the math in your head. Yes, we have been together fifteen years since we were eighteen years old. In fact if I ever want to get Mrs. Mitch hot I’ll start talking about how long we been together, or alternatively I’ll suggest we watch a Leonardo DiCaprio movie. I owe that dude a quite few thank you notes.
I was working part time at a grocery store and Mrs. Mitch was working at a burger joint, then a video store, then a grocery store, then a seniors centre. She had a little trouble finding her work groove. Then Mrs. Mitch decided to go back and get her high school diploma so obviously her work time was limited. Money was a wee bit tight those first few years. Scraping by would have been a vast improvement. I remember some months we were lucky if we had an extra $10 to our name. Thank god for the National Bank of Mitch’s Mom (love ya mom!) to help get us through those lean years. So obviously driving was not an option in those days.
Then after a few years of scraping by in menial low paying gigs we both decided to pursue post secondary educations. We packed up out of our crappy one bedroom apartment and moved to a crappier smaller one bedroom apartment that was in a way cooler part of town close to the university I was attending which helped downplay the crapitude of our domicile. The apartment backed onto a Taco Bell, for a fast food lover such as myself to say that was convenient as hell is an understatement of biblical proportions. We were both pursuing full time post secondary educations which were mainly funded by student loans and a small Aboriginal education grant I was receiving. Money wasn’t as tight as it was in years past but it wasn’t exactly like we were living the high life. So having student incomes, and living close to the school didn’t warrant a need for us to drive yet.
After the school era we moved to a downtown location bigger semi-not crappy apartment downtown. I had recently graduated and was looking for my first “real career job.” The great thing about living downtown was that every possible amenity we needed was in a 20×4 block radius from our apartment. Plus we both worked downtown, we could walk or catch a 5-10 minute bus to work. At this point in our lives we were concentrating hard on paying back our student loans. I felt that it didn’t make much sense for us to drive when the money could be better spent getting ourselves out of the giant pit of student loan debt. The plan was going great we were making tons of progress on student loans, paying some off and putting a huge dent in others. If we stayed the course and put up with our slightly not crappy apartment for a few more years we could be relatively debt free and settled in our careers. John Lennon once said “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” Then it happened. Mrs Mitch got the baby crazies.
I now have a public service announcement for my male readers in committed relationships. It will happen one day, out of the blue. Your double income no kids (D.I.N.K) life will be sailing along smoothly, money will be good, you’ll have an active social life, your life plan is going according to formula and all will be right with your world. Then, Mother nature will flick the procreation switch on your lady and she will want a baby in the worst possible way. Imagine the hungriest you have ever been. Then imagine multiplying that hunger by ten. Imagining it? Good. That is not even remotely close to the craving for a baby your gal will experience. From what I learned from personal experience don’t fight it. You don’t stand a chance against million of years of biological evolutionary messages her body is telling her to make babies.
So we made Little Mitch. Mrs. Mitch was on maternity leave for a year pulling in decent enough unemployment benefits. We managed to keep paying off student loans but not at the pace we were before. We still really did not feel the need to drive yet. Then seemingly overnight our safe quiet apartment building took a turn for the worse. Our neighbours to the left of us ran a successful thriving crack dealing business. Our other neighbours to the right would break up screaming very dramatically every Thursday and make up every Monday but not before she tossed all their kitchenware in the hallway sometimes bouncing a pot or two off our door. The last straw was when our one good neighbour told us some woman was beaten bloody in front of our door, she called the police; they never came. The next day by coincidence Grandpa Mitch called and said he found a large condo for rent a few blocks from his house. We ended up moving nine days later.
We now live in a affluent suburb community with terrible mass transit. Seriously nobody in this community walks for the sake of walking to get somewhere. They only walk when they are exercising, it is so strange. Now that Little Mitch is starting school in a month, and probably indoor soccer in the winter again, combined with Mrs. Mitch’s new Home Depot gig on the outskirts of the city it is inevitable; we need to drive.
No need to thank me, I’m an idea man it’s what I do.