Thursday, April 24, 2008


Being the cool mom that I am I decided to give 15-year-old Prince Tim a thrill.

Yesterday I was dropping him off at the home of the family that drives carpool in the morning. 2 blocks, seriously, two blocks away from our destination I pull over. “Wanna drive?” I ask. He is dumbfounded. “Uh…yeah!” he stammers. “Okay then.”

We switch seats. After my reminder to adjust mirrors, the words of the high school football coach who taught drivers ed float back to me. “I have been teaching drivers ed for 15 years. I will continue to teach drivers ed, less one of you kills me.” I wonder if he is still there.

I tell Tim to put on his directional. “Why? I’m not turning left.” I inform the young lad that he is pulling back out into the lane of traffic and must let the imaginary driver behind us know of his intentions. “Oh.”

I refrain from my rant that goes something along the lines of ‘Oh, yes, that’s right. How could I have forgotten? You are 15! You know everything! NOT!” If he did know everything I would have him focus on the answer to the looming question of how his college education will be paid for.

I smoothly talk him through the first part of his maiden voyage. “You can move a little more to the center of the lane. That’s it. Breathe. Put your shoulders down. Good,” I coach. Now it is time for the big right hand turn. He starts it, doesn’t turn the wheel enough and is headed for the curb which results in a quick stop. After a nice three point turn he is headed straight for the finish line 50 feet away. He is picking up speed as I yell, “Stop, stop, STOP!” He comes with in four feet of hitting our carpool driver’s car. He couldn’t have picked a worse car to come into close personal contact with. All hail anti-lock brakes! Now I am coaching myself, “Breathe, breathe.” I never let him see me sweat. He is off to school. I am not calling the tow truck company I have on speed dial. All is good.

Until the next time we get in the car.

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