My oldest daughter successfully made it through level one of driver’s training. She will soon be licensed to drive while her parents sit next to her.
This in itself is a huge accomplishment. She should be excited and proud about the upcoming training. Her dad is good at this stuff. Her mother will be clenching her teeth, biting her tongue and adjusting the tension in the seatbelt to insure maximum safety.
The girl, however, is delusional. She is not thinking about the next three months and at least 50 hours of driving time being logged as lessons are learned.
No, she is thinking about her 16th birthday in May, her junior year of high school, which almost a full year away, when she can drive to school.
She sees herself driving around town, picking up friends, graciously taking her siblings places, and putting herself behind the wheel almost every chance she can get.
This is where her head is when she gets into the car next to me carrying the signed certificate that says she successfully completed level one.
“Can I drive?” she asks.
“No,” I answer.
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t have your license yet. You won’t until we go to the Secretary of State’s office.
“Please? Can I drive?”
“No.”
“Can we stop and see how much it is?” She is referring to a yellow Corvette sitting in a parking lot with a for sale sign on it. She has mentioned this Corvette repeatedly, and I can tell in her mind it is already “her car.”
“No. We aren’t buying you a Corvette.”
“Let’s just see how much it costs.”
“No.”
“I need a car.”
“You do NOT need a car. We aren’t buying you a car.”
“Daddy said I might get a car.”
“And you might. It will not be a Corvette.”
“I need a cell phone.” (I’m thinking that is a 180, but in her mind the two are connected: driving and cell phones.)
“You can’t get one.”
“Amanda doesn’t need one.”
“Amanda is responsible. You weren’t. No phone.”
“I’ve been good.”
“For two months. You were irresponsible for two years.”
“So I have to wait two years?”
“No, but you do have to wait longer than two months. Maybe next September when our phone contract is up. We can add a line.”
“September? I need a phone when I get a car.”
“You can get a prepay phone, and you aren’t getting a car.”
“A prepay phone is worse than not having a phone.”
“OK, no phone.”
“Well, I’ll be driving dad’s truck.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes, I will.”
“What makes you think you will drive your dad’s truck?”
Her dad’s truck sits in our driveway most days. My husband has a company vehicle that he drives to work, and I drive my minivan most of the time. I use the truck as a back up (read when the minivan’s gas tank is empty and so is my wallet).
“I’ll drive it to school and stuff when I have practice.”
“You are not driving your dad’s truck.”
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“Why would we let you drive your dad’s truck? It is the nicest vehicle we have. Why would you drive it? We are still paying for it.”
“Well, I’ll get my own car then.”
“You don’t have a job or money.”
“Dad will buy me one.”
“With what? If we get a new vehicle, it is going to be mine not yours.” (My minivan has about 250,000 miles, and I will need to replace it soon. Plus, I hope the replacement will NOT be a minivan. I hate minivans, but when you are hauling around 4 kids and their stuff, minivans are a necessary evil.)
“I’ll buy a fixer-upper for $200, and Dad will help me fix it.”
“And who is going to pay for the parts to fix it?”
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“What about insurance and gas money?”
“Vaughn gets $2 from everyone that he drives around.”
“Gas is expensive. We live 20 miles from everything.”
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“Do you think your dad has a pot of gold sitting around somewhere?”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“You will probably drive the minivan.”
“I don’t want to drive the minivan.”
“Then you won’t drive.”
“I’m not talking to you anymore. I’m going to talk to Dad.”
Later, I mention my daughter’s thoughts about her driving his truck. His response, “What makes her think she is going to drive my truck?”
Of course, he has similar thoughts about me driving his truck….
