Surviving Your Teen Driver
You’d think I would be used to it by now. Four of my kids have licenses and the fifth one just got her learner’s permit. You’d think that I would be cool as a cucumber, calm as… well you get the idea.
But I’m not.
One more time, the idea of one of my children behind the wheel of a car, putting the entire state in mortal danger, and possibly denting my car, scares the crud out of me.
I am thankful that my husband, the real man of steel, has the ability to handle that part – you know the part. The part of driver’s training where you actually have to sit in the passenger seat while they are driving with the car moving and pedestrians jumping frantically out of the way.
The kids prefer that I am not in the same car with them when they are learning. In fact, they prefer that I am actually out of town. It started because of the one time I drove with one of my teens as he learned to drive.
I was sitting calmly on the passenger side, approximately ten feet from our driveway, when my son had to turn onto the next street. He turned the wheel with precision and the speed of a sloth on Xanax. All I could see was the trees heading toward us.
“Turn the damn wheel!” I screamed with all of the gracious calm that I am so very well known for.
This very child now helps handle various aspects of air transport for the Air Force in Asia. It’s funny how that works. My best advice if your teen is about to become a driver?
Xanax and vodka in copious amounts.