I took my driver's test but I was so nervous, I struggled with following even the most basic instructions. My three-point turn involved about a half-dozen points; by the end of the driving test my instructor was so frustrated with me, he was on the verge of shouting. Not surprisingly, I didn't pass.
I was so overwhelmed about re-taking the driving test that I never pursued getting my license - that is, until my mom drove across two states to give me her old car. My 'new' car was a faded red, 1980 Datsun 310. It had over 100,000 miles and the odometer bounced up and down at any speed past 65mph. Although I initially worried I wouldn't know how fast I was driving or if I was speeding, I didn't need to; any speed faster than 70mph made the whole car shimmy.
By that time, two years had passed and I had to re-learn how to drive. One of my friends took it upon himself to teach me to drive...again. His favorite mantra was: The Clutch Is Your Friend.
Prior to that, I had gotten around on a moped. A few of my friends in high school drove Vespa. I drove a Yamahopper. It was about as far from cool you could get, compared to the 5-mirrored scooters the Mods rode. It took me a half hour to drive across town to get to my job, and cost 25 cents to fill up the tank.
And then yesterday, this happened:
|Wasn't it only a couple of months|
ago that she learned how to ride a bike?!
You hear it all the time: how quickly the time goes and how fast children grow up. I was recently reminiscing about my first night away from my daughter, which was also was the same day she officially became a big sister.
And now this. Girl Doll passed her written driver's exam and received her learner's permit. I really have no idea how my daughter got to be so big and so independent. I am still reeling from the fact that she is old enough to drive at all - let alone document-ready to get behind the wheel.
Congratulations, sweetheart. I am so very proud of you!