Yesterday, my oldest daughter took the test that qualified her to get a REAL driver’s license. Or as real as it gets for a 16-year-old, which means she can drive places all. by. herself.

*sniff*

*FEAR!*

The test began with a quick inspection of her vehicle. The daughter INSISTED she would drive the truck and not the van, and I had tried to discourage her from driving the truck, but I gave into her wishes because I wanted her to be comfortable during her test.

I also made this deal: she passes, I pay; she fails, she pays.

I climbed out of the truck, and Autumn was left alone to run through the cone obstacles. It involved pulling to within 2 feet of a line (she was a bit short – one point), backing into what is about the size of a parking space and then pulling out and parallel parking.

Her dad was worried about the parallel parking, but I was just worried.

When she pulled up short to the line (although we had just practiced it, and I had mentioned she look to the side to help judge), I was worried for her. She would be disappointed if she failed.

But then she went to back up into the spot, and she moved slowly and hit a cone on the far right side. She stopped and looked at us for guidance, but she was on her own. She decided to keep moving backwards, and as she did, the cones fell one by one. By the time she put the truck in park and beeped her horn, she had four cones under the truck, and she had crossed the rear line at the back of the parking area.

OK, I admit it. I was laughing. I was probably also a little bit relieved — if she failed the test, she would have more time to practice before she was off on her own and that isn’t a bad thing. I grabbed my phone and snapped a couple of pictures — I had to do it.

Autumn put the truck in drive, pulled forward and finally straightened it out and backed into where she needed to be. Despite all of the knocked down cones, she only lost one point for pulling forward. The test is designed so you lose points only when you have to change directions to adjust your position. She only did that once, and so she only lost one point.

When it was time for her to parallel park, I couldn’t watch. I was laughing, and I didn’t want to distract her. I walked out of her line of sight and looked out toward Houghton Lake. She did a great job, getting the parking on the first time.

I made my way back and the driver’s testing lady asked me how she did driving, and I responded she did a good job. It was time for the road test.

The lady directed me to sit behind Autumn, which meant I couldn’t see very much. I was quiet throughout almost the entire test. There was one point where Autumn was at a crossroads of M-55, and she was supposed to turn left. The traffic on M-55 wasn’t stopping, and the traffic across the way had two vehicles — one turning left and one going straight. Autumn pulled out, and without even thinking about it, I said her name out loud.

I didn’t gasp, and my tone wasn’t excited, but I had broken my vow of silence. The driver’s ed lady assured me Autumn was not going to turn in front of the truck, and I tried to go back to being quiet.

It’s hard. Just a little ways down the road, another vehicle did a knuckle head move and basically pulled out in front of Autumn. I gasped, which is something I would do pretty much anytime. Autumn was fine, and my gasp was NOT in reaction to her move. But I was supposed to be quiet. Both Autumn and my husband had lectured me that I could not gasp or talk during the test, and I had done both, and I had started off so well.

I clamped both hands over my mouth and stopped watching the road. Instead, I once again looked out towards the lake to get control of myself. The driver’s testing lady was great. She said she understood my reaction and that it was natural. The rest of the test went smoothly, and Autumn did great.

The lady filled out Autumn’s certificate, and we were going to be on our way. Autumn wanted to go to the Secretary of State’s office immediately.

While sitting behind the wheel with the truck in park and running, Autumn spotted a friend with a skateboard. I was getting out of the seat behind her, and Autumn leaned out the window to yell at her friend. She was excited to tell someone she had just passed, but as she did so, she hit the gas pedal, and the truck revved up big time.

I yelled. So much for staying quiet.

The testing lady was just entering her motor home, so I don’t know what her reaction was, but I was not amused.

Still, after a quick trip home to pick up her sister for a softball game, Autumn and I went to the Secretary of State’s office to apply for her driver’s license. I emphasized she was still inexperienced and needed practice. I doubt Autumn heard me. The actual application process was pretty ho-hum. There weren’t any glitches, and she was soon smiling for the camera and walking out with her temporary license.

After the game, both girls asked if I would ride home with my mom leaving the two of them alone. I agreed, and the girls were off. They were very excited. They made a stop at my in-laws (with my permission) on the way home.

And that is how I became the mom of a teenage driver.