You! Yes, you. The one leaning on their horn as Thing1 stalls at the traffic lights. The clue is right there in front of you, the big, red, “L” on a white square. This is a learner driver! You don’t know whether they’ve been driving a car for 5 minutes, 5 days, 5 weeks… And horning off like that? Who does it help? Does piling pressure on a new driver make the task of setting off without stalling any easier? Does that sound magically mean they’re now imbued with your own prodigious driving talent?
Let’s rewind to your learner days, shall we? Stalling at roundabouts, pulling out suddenly – and unwisely – at junctions, crawling along at 43 mph on the open road. Were you perfect? Did you spring, fully-formed, from the loins of the Stig, quoting the Highway Code ? No, of course you weren’t, and clearly you didn’t. But you’d forgotten, hadn’t you?
We forget, selectively at times, what our own experiences were like.
The old man, clearly a father, probably a grandfather, getting cross with the toddler for daring to make a noise? Were your children perfect? Were you perfect? Of course you weren’t. Do you think your displeasure is going to make that kids’ parents think (a) “Oh, how kind of him to show how much he cares, what a nice old man!” or (b) “Shut up, you miserable old git, I’m trying here!” And consider the location – perhaps they’ve come along to church, halving the average age of the congregation at a stroke and giving the priest some hope that their church has a future. Do you think your attitude helps?
So cut people some slack. The “L”, or the “P” that follows it for a year should be a bloody great giveaway that someone’s not been driving as long as you have. Relax. That the kid playing with the toys is there in church at all should make you happy. Unless it’s the 8AM BCP, in which case “happy” is an alien concept and it’s not the most kid-friendly service!
Think how much better the world would be if we were all a little nicer to each other. If we all remembered what it was like to be in that situation.