Maybe you can drive my car

Txt m ako pag opis ka na at dmating ka ayos at no problem. Park mo sa lilim kung pede.

That's my father's text message on my mobile phone a few hours after he decided to let me use his car on my way to work. I was laughing very hard after reading the message and had to reply because I know he won't be at peace until I do so. I don't blame him since I've been notoriously known in our household to be prone to car accidents. I'm not prone really, its just that the accidents were caused by lack of experience in driving in long distances. But hey, its been a while since the last accident. Its been 8 months, so once I reach 1 year without a scratch of my father's vehicles, I think I'll be fine. I even find myself ready to drive long distances already. I'm now able to train my legs to shift driving from manual to automatic transmission (I still don't like automatic transmission vehicles very much. I think my right leg are abused by the lack of left leg activity on the clutch).

Anyway, what's with men and their cars anyway? Maybe I still don't quite understand the attachment they have on their toys even if I use one. Maybe when I buy my own car, I'll be attached to it too. I'm not really totally ignorant on how a car works since I think I'm exposed enough to the technology. I've been exposed from the assembly line of Toyota cars (in Japan) to even changing tires and car wash! But still, I don't get it. I have male friends who treats their cars like their children. They spend many hours tinkering with whatever's in it and spend a few more hours admiring AND talking about it. Don't they ever get tired? Its a car. I know it's a magnificent piece of machinery but hey, that's enough!

I love driving but still, my father's devotion on his cars are amusing, really.