Drives me Crazy

I can't figure out which situation is worse. Is it sitting in the passenger seat while Mark drives, listening to his non-stop haranguing of all the other drivers, putting up with his screams of panic when some texting moron slowly changes lanes in front of him, simply dealing with his horrible driving in general, or is it worse when I decide to drive. Mind you, I can't see very well, but sometimes Mark just makes me so crazy that I grab the keys and take over. Unfortunately Mark can make me just as crazy if I drive. He sits over there constantly making sounds as if he were riding a roller coaster. He screams with his high pitched voice, letting me know that somebody is changing lanes half a block ahead. His condescending attitude towards my driving, as if I had never driven before, gets on my last nerve.

I don't know how we ever make it to where we're going. Yesterday we went to Costco, a drive of about ten miles. On the way over there I mentioned that most black men were excellent drivers because they know that if they make one mistake some snot nosed cop might pull them over. This caused Mark to smile.

"Thank you. I told you I was an excellent driver."

I corrected him.

"Mark, you are not a black man when you are driving. When you drive, you are an eighteen year old Jewish girl in daddy's car, fiddling with your iPhone, while listening to crappy music on the radio."

"Maybe, but at least I'm an eighteen year old Jewish girl with good eyesight that can multitask...  Mr. Magoo."