He was that little once, just a lot blonder. I still imagine him like that sometimes, when I glance over and see him sprawled across the entire 7 foot long couch, when I watch him eat an whole pizza on his own, washed down with three sodas and followed by a bowl of ice cream... even then, I can still see his baby side. He is his mother's child. And as two Aries, we get it. I mean we get IT.
So, I know what he wants ... usually. And was a bit concerned when he wasn't chomping at the bit to drive. I mean, I have a HOT CAR.
Who wouldn't want to drive it? ;-)
So, I took him to get his driver's permit, a few weeks after he turned fifteen. That's the rule in Georgia. He had been doing some parking lot driving, some pullthecarout of the garage stuff, but no road work.
It started then. There was a log we were supposed to fill out, an instruction manual, a lot of what appeared to be MOMMY homework.. uh, no thanks. I got my license, paid my tickets, er, dues.
This should be on you, I told him. So, after a few days, a few close calls in traffic, a half bottle of Xanax.. he wasn't driving so much.
I waited to see when he'd ask. He didn't. I waited when school let out, to see if he'd want to take the lessons at school. He didn't . I watched his friends get their licenses, enjoyed seeing the neighbor girl do her mom's last minute pre-dinner oops shopping, and thought of all the places I could send my son.
So, he's taking driving lessons, from a stranger. A cute old Brit, actually. Who reprimanded me for speeding into the driving school parking lot, a turn we ALMOST missed.
He says in his sweet English accent, "That was a lovely two wheeled turn, there. And you're bringing HIM to driving lessons?"
I laughed. "Well, one of us has to know how to drive now. Aren't you glad it will be him?"
Next week, the boy rides one on one with another stranger, then it's my turn. Rut- ro, Scooby.
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