not nice

My husband delights is sliding on the ice & snow in the car.  He constantly hits the gas in parking lots and tries to do donuts.  Makes me absolutely NUTS.  I can't stand being out of control & the risk of hitting another car...a light pole...is just not worth it.  But he insists, "I know what I'm doing."  "We're not going to hit anything."  "Relax."  He does it just to watch me squirm.  {This is also the same man who waits until someone in the car takes a sip of a drink and hits the gas ~ not nice, right?}
Tonight, as we were hitting the town for our big date night of Wal-mart and Giant Eagle, he attempts to slide around the corner of our driveway...When ~ all of a sudden ~ we are headed (out of control) straight at the huge tree in our front yard.
The not nice part is that when I saw the tree & looked at the panic on his face while feeling the abrupt application of the brakes and I wasn't scared or panicked.  My first thought was, "Good, I'm glad he almost hit the tree.  Too bad we didn't, because then I could have said, 'told you so'."
And when I told that to Mike he laughed so hard he cried & he couldn't see where he was going driving down the road.
He will not learn.