Aug 23, 201202:46 PMBecause I'm the Dad
Parenthood through a Father's Eyes
I am just going to say it. I HATE teaching my daughter how to drive.
She turned 16 in January and begged us to allow her to get her permit. I had been planning the perfect comeback since she was 6. Because she was born in the middle of winter, there was just no way she could get her permit when the weather was bad. We would wait for spring. Period.
Anyone who experienced last winter’s heat wave can figure out how that worked out for me.
So I spent my spring and early summer clutching the armrest and pounding the imaginary brake on the floorboard of the passenger side of the car. I would clench my teeth and try to calmly explain that nothing good ever came of driving in the middle of the road. And turns—oh, the turns! It was amazing to me how someone could brake driving UP a hill and yet barely slow down when making a sharp right-hand turn.
Usually I begged off the driving lesson and gave the privilege to my wife. Yes, there were tears and high pitched screams. But honestly I tried to keep them in check.
The state law is that you must wait six months before you can take your driving test. Way back in March, my Gracie pulled out her calendar and pinpointed the day. She was all set to take the test. One evening she asked us if she could drive her friends to the beach once she passed her test.
After I finished choking on my dinner, I explained that the new laws prevented new drivers from carting around that many people. Whew.
But recently, it was her big day and she passed with flying colors. That doesn’t mean Daddy is at ease with the situation at all. If I had my way she would still be in the car seat.
I don’t think I have to worry about her driving to the beach anytime soon. Last night she went on her first solo mission to the grocery store. We have lived in the same house her entire life. The store is three miles away. She got lost.
I will never sleep again.