Woes of a Parent With a New Teenage Driver

My 15-year old son got his permit today. I'm scared! I've been dreading this day since he was born.

He asked if he could drive home from the DMV. Oh sure - it's a light blue bug (my husband won't even drive it during the day) - it's a manual - and we would have to drive on the highway. I DON'T THINK SO!

So we negotiated a deal whereby I would take him to Subway for lunch and he'd stop asking to drive. (You all know what a great lawyer I am, and, I am sure that his acquiesence to such a deal had nothing to do with the fact that he knows he can't drive a stick).

That being said - do I not have an adorable car?



















Viewers are sucked in by the seemingly girly, sweet, Barbie car (really, it is the Barbie car), and then they see it - evidence of my undeniable obnoxiousness.


I can't help it. I have now reached an age where I don't care if I annoy people. And, frankly, I find it fun!

I guess the apple really DOESN'T fall far from the tree (see previous posts about my mother on both my and my sister, Charmaine's, blogs). It just took a while for my apples to become ripe!

QUOTE OF THE DAY:

"Mom, I can be your designated driver". Uttered by Aidan in an attempt to provide incentive for me to teach him how to drive sooner, rather than later.