I was reading the Parade magazine in today's (July 11, 2010) Sunday Paper. The following post has been adapted to fit my life from that article. "The Scariest Milestone" by Harlan Coben.
As I open the car door and get in, I realize I have never EVER known such fear! I get in my seat close the door and buckle my seat belt, then I take a minute to look over at my newly permitted teenage son. The sheer terror of what we are about to do sinks in and my adrenaline levels increase 10 fold. He puts the car into reverse and begins to slowly back up, "are you watching behind you" "yes mother" "keep watching you never know when little kids are going to run behind you" "yes mother" we successfully back up and now we are in drive headed down the driveway onto our street, okay so I can now breathe for a minute. Out onto the road with other cars, my breathing has stopped again, can you pass out from this? approaching stop sign, silent prayer "slow down, slow down, slow down" my foot pushes on the IPB (imaginary parent brake) so hard I think that my foot is going to go through the floor. We finally stop, but not behind the white line so here comes the instruction (okay, really an overly loud lecture on stopping behind the white line). Our turn through the stop sign, acceleration "please slow down" "mom the speed limit is 50" why is it when you are a passenger of a teenage driver 50 feels more like 110? "please don't let me die today!" We safely arrive at our destination, my knuckles are white I am pretty sure I have taken a breath in the 20 minutes it has taken to get here. I shop, and then we start the painful journey home. Seriously though he is a good driver he is just missing the things that come with experience and time.
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