Jesus, Take the Wheel

Used to be that when a kid turned 15, all he or she could think of was when the drivers' education classes would start and how fast could he or she could get through it and be licensed to drive. Not so much for a lot of kids these days, including Ali Reed.

It's our fault: we drive her every damn place she wants to go, and technology takes her everywhere else. But today, at long last, the little redhead -- 16 since May -- is credentialed to learn to drive. She's not so little anymore. She's 5'7' according to her BMV-issued card, but you know who who I mean.

The captain was planning to go into work for most of the day. Ali had chores, homework and the BVM test ahead of her. I was on grocery, recycling, yard work and Ali-transport duty.

Jeff usually drives our Subaru, which has an automatic transmission, and I would never willingly give my convertible up on a day as beautiful as today was to be. But my Mustang has a manual transmission -- not the car most kids start out on.

So, when Jeff and I woke up, I snuggled close, said good morning, and suggested we switch cars for the day. I was, I will remind you, on grocery and recycling duty.

"No way," he said, wise to my scheme. He is determined to be her driving instructor.

Bastard.

After Ali sailed through her test and had her paperwork, we walked out into the sunshine. I suggested we pop over to Glendale's extra parking lot where she learned to ride her bike. It's huge and empty: perfect for learners of all things with wheels.

"Umm...." she said.

She and Jeff agree that I'm unqualified to teach her how to drive. I strongly disagree.

"Come on! Let's just try in this car," I said, ignoring the alarm my clutch gave out and giving her a step-by-step description of what my feet were doing every time I switched gears. "You can totally get this."

"Uh..." she said.

I kept wheedling and giving her reasons why we should use the card she had just earned, but the brat wouldn't do it. I complained that I didn't want to miss out on teaching her to drive. Jeff and Grandpa were her how-to-ride-a-bike instructors. We have the pictures -- and memories -- to prove it.

"But you were there," she pointed out. "I remember Grandpa pushing me, and I was so scared. And when I burned white rubber with Dad. That was so cool. And when Dad made me ride in circles around you. I was terrified I was going to hit you."

She thought we should go straight home after the grocery store. She had chores and homework waiting. Learning to drive could wait. For Dad. (Bastard.)

I couldn't believe it. Here she was, fresh off a successful test and officially credentials. There was nothing to hold her back!

Actually, I could believe it. She's brainwashed. It'll be her dad next to her when she takes the wheel. But I'll be there. Someone has to take the pictures....

You're not supposed to take photos inside the BMV, so don't tell anyone I have these.

On the left is Ali giving her info to the in-take desk, and on the right, she's taking her vision test.

 In other news, Ali continues to be a smarty-pants and was this week inducted into Herron High School's National Honor Society class.

She got her grades from ISTEP, too, and they were stellar. She's still thinking she wants to do something chemistry-related when she gets to college, but I'm not rushing that decision in any way.

Right now, she's focused on getting through as many episodes of 30 Rock as she can before it disappears from Netflix, and she still cuddles with me on the couch. Who needs a kid who can drive, anyway?

Below is the bunny who wrecked my black-eyed-susan flower bed. He's a bastard, too.

 

In news about me, my book is finally looking like something you'd buy in a book store and I'm so close to sending my second book in to be beautified to the level of the (new) first one. So, if you haven't bought Book 1 yet, wait a bit, unless it's in e-book form. That one is good to go. The new paperback is one dollar cheaper and so much prettier. 

The reviews didn't transfer, so if you like it, please review again. (Sorry to be a pain.) You can see the new version here.  I think a quick cut-and-paste will work.

I was with some friends from my old workplace this week, and one of them remarked that I looked a whole lot happier than she'd ever seen me. She claimed that I glowed. 

Now, in the interest of being truthful, that may be menopause. But I am so happy to be writing. Truly.

Thank you for those of you who are supporting this little dream of mine. I'd be forever grateful if you can positively review the book. Book 2 is sooooooo close..... (!)