Cars, unreasonable anger and bicycles-made-for-one-but-seating-two

I've just got back from a driving practice which, for some reason, involved both of my parents coming along. It was terrifying. Mostly for them, but my dads screaming, swearing and incoherent noises of outrage from the backseat weren't easy on me either.

All was going well until we were a full ten metres from our house, when I stalled. They both groaned and started on at me with two very separate, but very loud, different peices of advice. I stalled again.
'Give it some gas, you need more bloody gas!' my dad helpfully interjected. I ignored him, which is my default response whenever he says something. I stalled again.
'Gas, i said GAS! Listen to me!' - so I started the engine again, floored the accelorator, and sent us shooting off at twice the national limit, mounting the pavement and very narrowly missing a bush.
'Jesus! You nearly fucking KILLED us!!' screeched my dad ... he had a point, but this was not helpful for my concentration in steering away from the badly placed bush. Long story short, by the time we reached the end of our road (a further fifteen metres away) with my dad still shreiking in the back, I yanked up the handbrake, had a miniture breakdown and flatly refused to go any further. My mum tactfully swapped seats, and the rest of the journey passed in a haze of angry muttering and loud sighing.

Despite this adrenaline-fuelled mood-dampener, the rest of today was actually pretty good. I slept in for as long as I could before my mum woke me with the unwelcome news that we have two dogs who cannot (or will not) walk themselves. After that I cycled into town on my mums embarassing bike (it has panniers, ok? I fear she may soon start adding ribbons and knit a saddle-warmer) and met Jems* and my boyfriend Mark*. We ate things and named three cows - Sebastian, Clarence and Mayhew. Please don't ask. After that Mark went back up to school because, unlucky for him, he is extremely clever and does the IB.
Me and Jems, the lesser intellectualites, then cycled back to mine on the bike. And when I say cycled, I mean I cycled and Jems perched awkwardly on the panniers, clung onto my waist and sung a genius new version of 'bicycle made for two' (in which the lyrics were changed to 'on a bicycle made for one-but-seating-two'). Unfortunately for me, this was quite funny, and i almost lurched into several cars, a tractor and a bewildered pensioner.

I fear that I probably should not be allowed on public roads when accompanied by two or more wheels.