Advice: When Your Mother Shouldn’t Be Borrowing Your Car

Each week, the famed Marie Antoinette of France solves the mere mortals’ problems. Got your own quandary? Let the queen know at

My Queen, 

My mother needs to borrow my car. The problem is it’s her fault her car is in the shop to begin with. She speeds and late one night she was checking her cell phone and didn’t see that a line of construction cones had appeared to close off her lane. I love my mom but I also like my car. What do I do? 

Slow Lane

Darling Slow Lane,

ImageIn my day, I loved to gamble but yearned for bigger thrills. French queens customarily hosted card games, such as lotto and cavagnole, but their small stakes bored me half to death. I was more interested in the high stakes of Lansquenet and faro which were banned for princes of royal blood (after all, who wouldn’t want to play a game that’s been banned?). Louis, my husband, granted permission for me to play these games and I played for high stakes. One session of faro lasted 36 hours. When I lost, as I inevitably did, I didn’t stop or rethink my gambling. I’d ask the king for more money to gamble more. He’d oblige, happy to please his wife. While my losses her modest, the losses to my fellow players were huge and contributed to the reputation that I was a terrible spendthrift. Money in these games had no value outside of the thrill it could provide.

Your mother is a terrible driver. Don’t lend her your car. But there’s no reason to tell her what she’d been told by many before her to no effect. Instead, offer to give her a ride and pretend you’re pampering her. But seriously, never give her those keys.

What do you think? Did the Queen get it right? Give us your thoughts in the comments. 


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