I’ve been quiet here of late. Did you notice? If so, bless you.
When I last reported in for a Finish The Sentence Friday post my son was driving me crazy. Literally. While prepping for his driving road test he orchestrated a classic Just TypiKel situation. The gist of the post was that he stranded our car illegally on a weensy island of safety between a roaring train and a red light. It was an extra lonngggg train and the resulting five minute wait was a special parental experience that I will continue to write about indefinitely certainly treasure.
At the risk of boring those folks who’ve seen it at least once or thrice before, here is photographic proof.
Ok moving on.
Parental Driving Instructions
The parent of a child learning to drive needs guidance; a few instructions to help ease the way.
As with all the milestones in your children’s life, you’ll discover you are never truly prepared. After weeks of being relegated to sit as a passenger in your own car, being treated to the horrific sound of tires squealing up against immobile curbs, the inexplicable sudden surging of speed (usually on quiet narrow streets lined with shiny new cars) and perhaps if you’re extra lucky, the rolling of the vehicle onto the neighbor’s lawn, your child declares they are ready. This is a good thing. Their test is tomorrow.
Tomorrow? Yes. Tomorrow. You’ll need to disregard that nagging belief that your darling discovered just last week how to move the seat back and adjust the rearview mirror.
It’s Road Test Day. As you perch on the edge of your favorite living room chair, hiding in the shadows because you swore you wouldn’t dare embarrass your child by being spotted peeking between the drapes, you watch your baby being greeted by the driving instructor. A person you’ve hired yet never met.
Those wonderful memories of being there for all the firsts? The first steps, the first bites of solid food, the first independent balancing on the bike? Hold them close. They’re over, Momma. A stranger will be witness to the first time your child drives as a qualified driver. Maybe not today but someday.
Your job is to sit at home awaiting the results. They’ll be delivered via a text. Such as this one.
No. He drove up on the curb while f***ing parallel parking. But how? His parallel parking was perfect each of the previous 236 times. You’re stunned as you were certain it would be perfect …
While this is devastating news, take heart. You needn’t be brave and hold back the tears. He’s not there to see you. For the first time in maybe forever you can react any way you want without thinking about the impact of your reaction. Go on. Indulge yourself.
Twenty minutes later he’s home. As you steel yourself to offer a multitude of soothing platitudes you notice his step on the stairs is surprisingly light. You whip open the door to find him brandishing a huge smile.
“I passed!”
The bugger passed. He’s tricked you into believing the worst. All of your silly teasing and practical jokes you’ve played on your children have come back to roost.
And is this the end of the driving saga?
Oh no, dear. It’s just beginning.
I invite you to cast your eyes on this beaut.
As you open your car door you’re greeted to the sounds of incessant warning beeps. The previous driver left the headlights on. Thankfully you got lucky this time. There’s still some juice left in the battery. You wheel away from the curb. And then your eyes fall to the dashboard only to discover the gas gauge is hovering on empty…
Yes, the parental driving instructions continue even after the license is acquired. High on the priority list? Always leave time for the unexpected.
This post was inspired by the Finish The Sentence prompt of “Everything felt perfect the time that..'”
As always, our host is the lovely Kristi . Today’s guest hosts are Michelle Grewe of Crumpets and Bollocks and Kerri Ames of (Un)diagnosed and Still Ok and Jessica Lee. Click on their names to be transported magically to the other posts on this prompt.
Enough about me and my thoughts on parental driving instructions. I’m curious about you. Received any classic texts? What did you learn as your child learned to drive? Were you tempted to throttle them? Or were you the image of patience? Better yet, if they’re still wee, do the driving years seem eons away? Do you drive? Or do you choose to take transit? If you’d care to share, I’d love to hear.
34 Responses
Congrats, H on passing your driving test and testing your Mom! Through all of her concerns she is still most proud of you! Looking forward to the next automobile saga!
I’ll pass on your very kind words! Thank you. And yes, he certainly does test me. I mean, I AM most proud of him. 🙂
I explained that almost- 93 year old grndmothers were apt to be a little wobbly in cars anyway and not to worry about my behaviour. Hoped he did not notice me clutching the dashboard or closing my eyes as we sneaked by parked cars. As for passing anything on the road…well! Maybe I did shudder a bit. But I loved the “Full stop!” and “Look 360 degrees about you!” And the enormous smile whern we next met, with the squared back shoulders….he seemed four inches taller. Congratulations, H! “You done FABULOUS!” as we say in our family. Gaga.
I forgot about the “Full stop” and the “look 360 degrees!” Great memory Mom. I’m sure he didn’t notice your clutching of the dashboard. Happily I was able to get the fix-it shop to smooth out your fingernail impressions. Tempting as it was to have them as souvenirs, we feared they’d affect the resale value down the road … And yes, he done fabulous, didn’t he?
Congratulations to your son on passing his drivers test, well done ! Kelly, now you can put on your pj’s and have that glass of wine much earlier, I am very happy for you !
Someone was up late last night. Thanks so much, Jane. Love your concept of putting on the pj’s and donning the wine so much earlier. Yes! AND – I can sleep a weensy bit later. Such a luxury when he got up yesterday at 5:30 and I could just stay in bed … But then I did get up and water the baby grass seeds that had to be planted due to the charming chafer beetle. AH well. Thank you- I’ll pass on your kind words to him.
Oh my gosh! He got you! Ha! I remember learning to drive. My dad refused to let me practice and so the first time I was in a car at all was on the parking lot at school trying to steer over cones. I think I ran over every single one. After a total hissy fit at home (many tears were involved), my dad finally realized that the d### school wasn’t going to teach me alone.
Oh, Kristi that must have been just awful. I can see the car flattening each and every cone. That would have been me as well. So glad your dad finally saw the light.
That’s hilarious I really hope your household survives! Texting was a thing when my daughter was learning to drive…that reminds me that Damn I’m old! It was harrowing to say the least!
Thank you for your kind wishes, Rena. It was quite something when he tootled off last night to drive a friend home at 12:45. That’s a first. And we’re not old. We’re seasoned …
I laughed out loud so many times! This was great!
Thanks, Erin. I adored your Darcy and Martin piece. Right down to her flaking face and glass eye …
I don’t know what I fear more…my daughter driving or the cars that will be veering out of her way as she gazes at the rainbow!
Great take on the sentence.
Grinning over the gazing at the rainbow comment. That is quite the vision.
yay for all! I remember being terrified when our oldest started driving and riding places with his friends who were driving then I started to appreciate him being able to pick up the younger siblings and take them to all their activities. Child number two is already practicing to get her restricted at 15 in January. With her, it’s not going to be worry about her driving skills — it’s more where is she driving to and with whom. Different child, different worry. Oh well, we’ll survive right?
Different child, different worry. That sums it all up. Brilliant, Jamie. Thank you.
1. Who doesn’t go up on the curb when they parallel park?
2. Hahahaha! My son will totally leave the lights on and an ounce of gas in the car. Making notes to teach him, right after I get him going on doing his own laundry. I bet my son thinks insurance “just happens” too!
Yes – the insurance issue is delightful.I learned a huge lesson on that front. Just as we sat down with the insurance agent to insure the car my two will be driving (the acquisition of which is a story in of itself) my phone buzzed. “Where are you?” Uh. The recital started at 2:00 not at the expected 3:00? I had 20 minutes to do a 30 minute drive. Barely listened to insurance man and as a result got my son listed as 51% majority driver. He has earned no exemptions whereas I have a zillion. Would have been SO much cheaper if we’d put me as 51%. What was I thinking? “Got to get to the damn concert…” TypiKel.
Ha! Yeah I remember that photo on the train tracks. This is just so funny to me. It took me two times to pass my permit test and three times to pass my driver’s test. Yep. I’m going to have to keep coming back here because you are one-step ahead of me, and I can learn from you (my oldest starts her 30 hours of driver’s ed classroom on July 13th).
Ohhhhh you’ve got fun times ahead. I’ll be curious to see if she’s like my two and becomes the wise backseat driver once she has a few hours under her belt. “That was a double yellow line, Mom. You shouldn’t have crossed.” “I’d have waited and let that driver in, Mom.” “Did you turn on your turn signal back there, Mom? I didn’t hear it.” Grinning over your journey to get your license. I got it in two tries. After I rolled the volkswagon onto the neighbors lawn …
Congratulations to your son – such a big milestone! I barely passed my driver’s test (way back when) because I was “unable” to parallel park. I’m still terrible at it! I love that he “got you” – sounds exactly like something my youngest would do. Hope you had a great weekend – are you guys getting the heat?
Oh man we sure are! So, so hot. Getting a bit worrisome – we had no snow this winter and so there’s very little snow pack. I feel guilty when I sprinkle water on the newly planted grass seed! Hope you’re coping ok!
I really think there should be an opt out form one can sign on the parallel parking bit. I hate it. Never do it. Never will. So I would have signed a form during the test saying I promise to never parallel park. See problem solved!
Problem solved indeed! I actually adore parallel parking. I know – don’t hate me, ok? I’ve even stepped behind the wheel for pals who are challenged in this department. If only I could get paid for this particular skill …
Hurray! Congrats to H!
Unfortunately, now for you, the really hard part begins. My daughter just took one of our cars to Seattle for the summer, as she needed transportation to a summer job. I finally quit telling her to text me whenever she went anywhere – too much agony of waiting to hear that she made it on my end! I think our kids should pay for our hair color – to make up for all the grey put there by worrying!
Our rule, because gas stations here can be few and far between, is that when the tank is a quarter-full, it is considered to be empty! This is what has saved us (so far!) from running out of gas.
Grinning here – over the hair color comment. SO true. Oh man. The other night H was half an hour late coming home from work. I pictured him first over the edge of some random cliff and then knotted up in a 6 car pile up. Where was he? He’d arrived home on time and spotted two of his pals up at the local park. Pulled over to chat. Fifteen minutes later as he got home our street was choked with cars so he parked out of sight up the street. Ran into a neighbour and chatted for another 15. Looked most perplexed to receive my beyond squishable hug.
And I think your gas rule is wonderful. Going to adopt it. Thank you.
Wouldn’t be nice if we could get back all those moments of needless worrry?!
So, so true, Susan.
I could just picture you in the passenger seat, Kelly. I wish for photographic evidence of *that*.
My classic text came from a 9-year-old daughter, during school, who isn’t allowed to have texting.
Elise is learning to drive now. I use my late-night jazz DJ voice to sooth her around the parking lot as she practices turns and parking and not freaking out. I have loads of patience with her. Loads. (I know. It’s just the parking lot.)
And what would that photo show? Me grinning. And fumbling for my phone. And exclaiming “Oh man this is a classic moment. One that has to be preserved…” After I uttered the requisite “what were you thinking” comment first …
And that line about your late-night jazz voice? Oh my god. Reminded me of how my late husband would lower his voice to a beyond manly range when ordering gas back in the day when someone else filled the tank. Baritone: “Fill it up with unleaded, please.”
I F***ing hate parallel parking too! 😀
Well, congrats to him for passing though it seems like yet another parental milestone of chewing out fingernails that have already been bitten to the quick!
I wish that I could earn some money parallel parking for others, Roshni. I adore it. I know I am in the minority. Have actually slipped behind the wheel for friends who also detest it.
Congrats to him for passing.
I cannot parallel park to save my life. I’m glad I didn’t have to do it for my test. I took me 3 tries to pass though. I was so nervous!
I can well understand. I think the not passing the first time somehow makes things worse. Hooray for getting through on the third!