This is my 101st blog post. I feel like I am at least 101 years old because today Taryn got her learner’s permit. I can still remember giving birth to her. I remember buckling her into her little infant car seat. Just a short while ago we turned it around so she was forward facing. It was only a few months back that we moved her up to the booster seat and she started buckling herself. I swear only last week she was finally tall enough to ride in the front seat with the airbags on.
Now, she’s learning to drive? That’s not possible, even when you live in a place that allows kids to get permits at 14.
I think she’s only 4. If she’s 14 then I’m…well, I’m really old.
She seems to think so.
We talked about drivers’ ed classes over dinner. I told her that I took one in the summer school session after my sophomore year. She asked me if they had paved roads back then.
John asked if it was hard to stop a dinosaur.
Even Dallas asked if they had invented the wheel yet.
Stupid, sarcastic family.
I don’t think I am going to be able to teach Taryn to drive. She’s obviously too obsessed with my age. The other night we watched the original (and the only one that will ever count) Footloose. At the end the song “Almost Paradise” came on. I told Taryn that this was the theme of my junior prom. I figured she would want to know all the details about my dress (hunter green with lace), my date (Hector Melendez), and the decor (a tropical paradise, I helped build a waterfall out of cellophane).
Instead she said, “Was it in a cave?”
So no, this elderly lady will not be teaching her how to drive. Good luck, Dallas.
(I know you are wondering: No, John did not get his permit too. He won’t take the online pre-test because, “it seems kinda boring.” Stupid teenager.)