Dear God. He has his license

Yesterday Teen Tim got his driver's license.  

Today he got a ticket.

Not really, but kind of. His first outing was to take Hubby to the airport. Looking back, navigating the hell that is DFW airport probably wasn't the best idea. After he drops off Hubby he starts his way home but doesn't get into the far left lane where he can just go thru with the toll tag. He zips to a lane on the right and the attendant asks, "Where's your ticket?"

"What ticket?"

"The ticket you got to get into the airport."

"I didn't get one, I was in the toll tag lane."

"Well, you aren't now."

Then he got a ticket for a 'lost ticket.' 18 bucks. Call me evil but I find the whole thing hysterical.

Almost as hysterical as when he drove the now infamous four blocks from a friend's house to ours. 4 BLOCKS. He sees an oncoming car, rightly decides to ooch to the right. Then SCRRRRRAAAAAAAAAATCH. Someone left cut branches out for the bulky trash pick-up that dangled over the curb.  When he got home, yes it does stand to mention that I was not in the car during this particular escapade, he told me what had happened and walked be around to the scratched side of the car. I just looked, turned to him and said, "All four panels. I'm so proud of you honey!"

Honestly, what are you going to say?

The most disturbing part of him getting his license was that he can opt out of a driving test with a trooper. I couldn't believe it. That's a right of passage! Everyone should have to go thru that. He could even imagine the instructor in his underwear like Marcia Brady did.  How could they deny him the opportunity to fail the test twice like I did? (It wasn't my fault. Really. I swear.)

So one scratch, one ticket; I figure a fender bender is next. I'm just playing realist here, I don't want to look at the dismal stats about it.  I'm just hoping it is a classic case of 'teenage failure to stop." I recently witnessed one of these on Abrams. Woman turning left + inattentive boys in two cars following each other = three accordion cars.  Everyone was fine and with my maternal instincts in full swing I decided to jump in and help the jangled boys.  I asked one driver if he had called his mom. When he hadn't I gave him his script. He dialed her and I played Cyrano. "Mom, I'm ok," I mouthed. "But I wrecked the car."

"Mom, I'm ok," he squeaked. "But I wrrrr...wreeeckkk. wreaked the car."

I'm surprised she didn't get a speeding ticket racing to help her sweet boy. I know I would have.

So, now you know that my oldest offspring is tooling around the streets of Lakewood. 

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Reign On!

Queen Linda