Chickens in the Basement

I love to write and I love to laugh. When I write, I get to the point quick. My stories would fit on the back of a postcard. They usually make me chuckle. And you know what they say, "It's all about me!"

Friday, June 26, 2009

License to Scare Your Mother

My heart beat is quick, my breathing is shallow, my head is throbbing, and my ears are ringing. I am leaning to the left permanently in an effort to keep my ass out of the ditch. What's the problem? It isn't really a problem. It's my body's reaction to my oldest boy getting his driver's permit! Just where did those last fifteen years go?

Yesterday, we spent two hours at the DMV. Don't bother to schedule an appointment. There is no speedy way through the quagmire. Fortunately, we realized we needed a birth certificate and a social security number prior to our arrival at the DMV and rushed through the bank's safe deposit box to remove all of the items needed (plus a few extras since we didn't have time to study!)

Will passed his driving test with flying colors. He only missed one question. This was much better than his mother did the first time she took a driving test. She was sent home humiliated and without her picture on a plastic card! No longer do new drivers have to take a driving test. This comes when you get your license. While waiting for Will's number to come up, I asked if he wanted to drive home. When he said yes, I thought I would throw up! He changed his mind when we got to the parking lot at lunch time and the traffic was rocking. I drove until we were a few miles from home and pulled over and made him drive. He did fine. He is very cautious and travels a little below the speed limit (unlike his lead-footed mother).

Today, we had videos to return to Blockbuster. Will wanted to spend some time behind the wheel. Since the roads we travel to get there aren't too crowded and have minimal stoplights, he got to chauffeur his mother.

Our road is the narrowest. A few times, I thought we were destined for the ditch. But Will managed to keep the wheels on the road with little space to spare. A slow-moving truck with flashers blinking nearly made me swallow my tongue. Why are lane changes so scary? The car is meant to stay to left of the white line on the right side of the road. We need to work on this one as Will feels safer straddling that line! I'm afraid he parks like his mother...very close to the white line on one side and lots of space on the other. Practice will make this better! I felt the need to offer a steady commentary on what was coming up, where to turn, how to park, etc. After listening respectfully for a while, Will looked at m and said, "Mama, I already know that stuff."

Overall, he did a great job. I was the one with the problem. My internal speedometer was speeding up and slamming on breaks and trying not to cry. Will asked what kind of driver I was when I was learning. The last time my dad smacked me, I was driving down a highway and passed very closely to a guy on a bike. I was probably close enough to the biker to cause his body to leave skid marks in his underwear, but, as I told my Dad, "I didn't hit him!" I'm lucky that the biker wasn't fast enough to catch me and all I got was a smack. I'm sorry Dad!

3 comments:

Jenny S said...

hehehe!! OMG!!!! I can just imaging!

Em said...

Yikes!!! It makes me nervous just thinking about it! Luckily, I've got several more years to go before that little heart-attack comes! Whew! Good luck over the next year of being chauffeured... ;)

Blasé said...

What's Up, Wake Forest!

Come and visit my in Raleigh...just down the road a piece.