Hot Rod Lincoln

“My daddy said, ‘Son, you’re going to drive me to drinkin’ if you don’t stop drivin’ that hot rod Lincoln.’” All of my teen driving posts should have that song playing in the background.

My spies tell me that Jeremy plays air guitar with his right hand while driving with his left. Remember when I told him he shouldn’t sing and drive at the same time?

Teen Driving Update

Many years ago, I plated deep purple irises by the edge of the driveway. They've survived an onslaught of rebounding basketballs, but now they have a new peril.

Me: It looks like one of the boys backed the car over the irises.
Husband: It won’t help. They’ll just grow back.

It’s Been a Long Time Since the Last Teen Driving Post

Last week I drove by the high school as school was letting out. The car in front of me had a bumper sticker that read:

How’s my driving?
Call my mom.

It gave a phone number.

The Road Test

We showed up at the driving school with all the necessary paperwork. Then there were forms to sign. As Jeremy scrawled his name, the examiner said, “That says you won’t be alone in a car with a girl until you’re 30.” Jeremy was so nervous, he didn’t even look up.

The road test went pretty well, although I won’t dwell on that frightening left turn in front of an oncoming truck. We drove a long way on the highway, the one driving experience Jeremy has had little of. When we finally returned to the driving school, the examiner recited such a litany of “things you need to work on” that Jeremy and I both thought he failed.

But he passed.

Then the examiner said, “Mom, you did a good job.” I sat up straighter, thinking he was going to compliment my driving instruction. “You didn’t scream,” he said.

On the way home, Jeremy had to drive along a tricky stretch of roadway where two lanes suddenly become one.
Me: Let that trailer go ahead of you.
Jeremy: I just passed my driving test, so I must have some level of ability, but you’re going to baby me forever.
Me: I still baby Sam.
Jeremy: sigh

Parallel Parking

The Michigan road test includes parallel parking, so a few days ago I gave Jeremy his first lesson. He did pretty well, partly because I drew him an diagram and said, “Make the car do this.” He practiced a few times and then …

Me: Are you ready to go home now?
Jeremy: I have the wheel, and you can’t stop me.

An Equal and Opposite Reaction

The light changed to yellow, and Jeremy stopped the car.
Jeremy: I didn’t block the crosswalk, and I didn’t slam on the brakes.
Me:
Jeremy: But your head hit the headrest.
Me: I didn’t say anything.
Jeremy: Actions speak louder than words.

Two Unrelated Conversations

Me: Steer away from those mailboxes.
Jeremy: Aww. They're friendly.
Me: Until you hit them.

Now you might think that friendly-until-you-hit-them is one of those universal truths, but it isn't.

Yesterday I received an email from a member of my sons' Tae Kwon Do studio about an upcoming event. When I replied, I identified myself as the mother of Sam and Jeremy because my last name is different from theirs. The gentleman wrote back, "I'm very familiar with your sons. Sam has kicked me in the head a few times." He meant it as a compliment.

There's also friendly-even-after-you-hit-them.

A Little More on Teen Driving

As an ongoing service to YA writers who may not have the opportunity to teach a teen to drive, I offer yet another car conversation.

Me: Slow down for that turn.
(Jeremy reduces his speed, executes the corner beautifully, but hits one of Michigan's ubiquitous potholes.)
Jeremy: See what happened?
Me: You were supposed to slow down and miss the pothole.
Jeremy: I'm not that much of a ninja.

More on Teen Driving

As a followup to a previous post on teen driving, here's what Sam said about NCAA commercials.

"They tell me what car I should drive, what beer I should drink, and what insurance I should buy if I do both simultaneously."

The Target Audience

Every YA author should have to teach a teen to drive. In case you don’t have a young driver handy, here are two conversations that occurred while Jeremy was behind the wheel.

Jeremy (singing falsetto): In the jungle, the mighty jungle,
Me: Don’t sing while you’re driving.
Jeremy: the lion sleeps tonight.
Me: Okay. Only at red lights.

Me (after emphatically correcting a driving error): When I was learning to drive, Grandma got mad at me.
Jeremy: You must have been terrible. Grandma was really nice.

Two Teens Before the Wheel

My younger son just got his learner's permit. My older son still has his. While the older one is perfecting the skills of parallel parking and is close to taking his driver's test, the younger one is still driving at the white-knuckle stage. This is hardly surprising as he has spent all of 2 hours and 27 minutes behind the wheel.

I strive to remain calm.

Teaching a teen to drive will teach you a lot about yourself.