Today Could Be My Last

This blog post has special meaning. It may be the last. I am currently riding shotgun while my 16 year old son is driving us to Lincoln. Yes, he is 16 and technically should already have his license but he's the kind of guy who was happy to let his sister drive him to school, swim practice and where ever else because it was easier. Then when it got to be crunch time, he failed the permit test three times....but who doesn't, right? No? whatever. Add to that, every time he needed to take Driver's Ed, there was something going on to prevent it; golf practice, work, etc.

Wanting him to drive is surely a double-edged sword. I'm weary of carting his happy hiney all over creation but I'm terrified of riding with him. This is by kid who routinely says, "Wait, what?" in the middle of every conversation because he tuned out and then back in. This is not a good omen for driving.

But today I have to go to Lincoln and have something like 22,000 dental x-rays taken by my daughter who is almost finished with her Dental Assisting program. (This is where I wish she'd gone to beauty school instead of dental school) Since I have PTSD in regard to all things dental, I am not so much looking forward to this visit. At least it's only x-rays and not drilling, squirting, sucking, poking and prodding. Oh my! I'm experiencing heart palpatations now! Since I'm already near cardiac arrest with fear of the dentist, I thought now would be the perfect time to let the boy drive on the highway. This is sort of the same reasoning I used when I pierced M's ears on the same day she got her six month immunizations.

In chose to get out of town before handing over the wheel (read: my life) to the very excited boy. I pulled over to the side of the road and we were going to change places. Keep in mind that this boy doesn't hurry to do ANYTHING. He has two speeds: slow and sitting. But not today! Today before I can say, "Wait by the bumper until the semi goes by before you go open the door to get in." he is around the bumper and has the door open. As the semi swiftly approaches, threatening to either hit both boy and door, or at the very least, tear the door off with his backwash of air, I'm screaming for him to HURRY UP AND GET IN!! Given he has stiff legs, getting in is never quick. He finally gets the door slammed shut, the semi roars by. My throat tightened up and my left arm throbbed. I wonder; will I die of fright or a firey crash first?

We just took a cut off and rather than slowing to smoothly navigate the curve, we approached too quickly, almost stopped in the middle and then gunned it. I'm wishing I had spiked my latte this morning.

Most of the roads here in the heartland are flat and straight. The whole place is built around farm acres. This should be simple. I'm wishing I had remembered that nothing is ever simple.

I just asked him, "What are you going?" He responds, "Where am I going?" Why would I ask him where is he going? I'm wishing I had remembered that communication is not this guy's main strength. Wait, what?

I'm sweating profusely now. Is it fear? Is it the anticipation of my own death? Is it a hot flash?

I keep stealing glances at him. He appears to be almost asleep. I quearied and he assured me he was awake. I wonder what he is thinking about? Is he thinking about texting the girl he is dating? Is he calculating the distance from our bumper to the car in front? Is he thinking at all? He seriously appears two seconds from sleep.

And he is awake! We just turned from highway to another. He slowed appropriately and got into the turn lane. Two cars were coming so he stopped. He didn't HAVE to stop but he said he thought he did have to come to a complete stand still stop. In fact, rather than simply slowing down and easing to an almost stop (all that was necessary), he got to the perfect almost stop and then said, "Oh! I almost had it!" and then proceeded to stand on the brake until we almost got whiplash and our seatbelts locked. There is no eyeroll big enough for me at this point.

I have taught three other kids to drive. You think I would be a pro. But I'm not. Each kid has their own quirky things about driving. My daughter A was similar to C and no matter how many times I yelled SLOW DOWN, she would SAY she was slowing down without actually decreasing speed at all. She is a fine driver now, though, so I take comfort in that.

I am going to sign off now and spend a little time in prayer, preparing to meet my maker. Wait, what?

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