A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-One-Hundred-And-Fifty-Three

One of the complaints that my brother and I have shared around our mother is her predilection for making phone calls in the car.  Many times I have gone to pick her up for one thing or another and had her get in the car without even saying hello because she is on the phone, and signaling for me to drive, as if I am her chauffeur.  She just talks on her phone, not wanting to be interrupted, as if no one else is even there.  As I said, my brother has had similar experiences, and it is one of the things we have both complained about in that regard.  Considering that our relationship has been strained of late, and that I have been feeling pushed away by both he and my mother, it seemed an important, if small, thing that I could complain about this repeated behavior to him.  Today, though, my brother did the exact same thing to me.  I had driven him to the hardware store to get some things that wouldn't fit in his tiny car, and as soon as we were on the way back, without even saying anything, he took out his phone and started talking to someone, having a long conversation while I drove him around.  Now, I understand that their are times when one needs to answer the phone, or to call someone back, but it did not seem as if that was the case in this call.  Their wasn't anything that seemed to be of pressing importance.  Beyond that, I would at least have hoped he would say something to me beforehand, like, "hey, do you mind if I make a phone call?"  It might not bother me that much if it weren't a replication of behavior he knows our mother does which upsets both of us.  It was another demonstration of his inability to consider my feelings, even when they should be obvious.