Dad
The last time I saw my Dad, he'd just dropped me off at my flat after we'd been driving together. I failed my first test at the end of December and I've been practicing since to get it right the next time. We clashed a bit during that day's practice. At the very first junction, the green light came on but I couldn't get the car to move. The handbrake seemed jammed. "Go!", Dad shouted. His impatience just made me more irritated and flustered. "Shut up! What do you think I'm trying to do!", was my bad-tempered response. Later, we were doing reverse parking. He was trying to show me how to do it through positional judgement, and seemed unconvinced by the step-by-step method I'd learned from the instructor and YouTube videos. Again, we snapped at each other. There was no lingering bitterness though, and I hold no regrets about that happening, because we made up straight away. We'd long reached a point where those tiffs rarely