My son passed his driver's test and got his driver's license yesterday.
That's right his license to drive a car!
Now, you know I don't write about my kids on the Internet. This is absolutely not a "mommy" blog.
But this situation?
This is really all about me!
I'm ashamed to admit it, but I left my husband in charge of the past few months of practice driving with my son. It was his "job" to take my son out to get behind-the-wheel experience.
I did this because I'm not an idiot of my car accident.
And no, it had nothing to do with logic.
My disabling life changing car accident was caused by a man running through a four way stop.
I know, logically, it had nothing to do with an inexperienced driver.
There's not enough therapy in the world, however, to get me in the car with someone who doesn't know how to drive.
My kids have all understood,
It isn't that I don't have faith in them –
I just have some very deep emotional/psychological scars.
Anyway, I was in the grocery store yesterday when I got a call from my husband.
"Did he flunk?" I asked as I answered my phone.
"No," laughed my husband. "He's driving us home right now – he passed!"
"That's great!" I said with genuine enthusiasm.
Then I hung up and freaked the hell out.
My baby is now licensed to get behind the wheel of a weapon of mass destruction a car and DRIVE!
Not long after, I was giving my son a congratulatory hug.
Then my son smiled at me, grabbed the keys to the car, and announced he was going to a girl's house "to celebrate the last day of summer." (School began here today.)
"But wait …!" I said.
First, I reminded him not to even "glance" in the direction of his phone while driving.
Then I proceeded to ask him if he knew what to do if he was pulled over by the police.
Then I asked if he knew what to do if he got in a "fender bender."
Then I asked if he knew how to get to his friend's house.
Then I asked if ….
Well, you get the idea.
I was still talking as we he walked out to the car.
He opened the car door, looked up at me puzzled, and asked, "Now, which pedal is the brake again?"
He laughed …
And laughed, and laughed!
(Aren't teen boys funny?)
I walked back into the house.
I hyperventilated for a few minutes.
I looked at my watch, then I looked at it again.
My son was under instructions to text me once he arrived at his friend's house so I would know he was safe.
Yes, I am THAT mom.
And waited some more.
I had planned to head to the beach for some photography time, but I couldn't leave the house until I knew he had arrived safely. (I know this makes no sense, but …!)
Forty minutes went by. It shouldn't have taken more than twenty five minutes for him to drive to his friend's house.
Finally, I texted him and asked, "Are you there yet?"
"Just got here. I parked successfully and I did not die."
(Aren't teen boys funny?)
I exhaled, and realized I'd been holding my breath for a good forty minutes.
I know "Just got here," is teen-speak for, "Whoops, I forgot to text you."
I think I need sedatives to get me through the next couple years.
My nerves are frayed, and he hasn't even had his license for 24 hours yet.
© Twenty Four At Heart