Shifting Gears

13 Apr

Violin girl decided the time had come to take hold of the wheel. Steering wheel, that is.

Hubby thought it a splendid idea. Kaukab’s daughter thought not.

I understand the whole “coming-of-age” thing. The importance of launching her toward independence. On the other hand, violin girl isn’t exactly known for keeping her concentration front-and-center in circumstances which ask for such skill. She’s the kind of free-thinker who can get lost in thought. A nice feature for, say, creating art, but not too terribly helpful when some crazy driver suddenly appears in your lane when you didn’t invite him.

I remember when I wanted to get my driver’s license. I was seventeen and headstrong. I had managed to convince Kaukab that I was more than ready to get one. She had me sign up for a lesson from a driver’s ed. firm, so that I could use their car to take the driver’s test, since we had only one car (back in the day when most families had just one car *gasp*) and my father needed it to work.

All had gone well, except for the day when I had to take the driver’s test. I had done well enough with the road test, but the parallel parking was another matter. I had managed to manuever the car into the actual space, however, when I was asked to straighten up the vehicle, I had forgotten to relieve the gas pedal in a timely manner, thereby running over the rear cone. I had failed. Worse, I had the unfortunate job of relaying this information to Kaukab, who had believed that by simply paying for the driver ed service one could simply be granted a pass on their test and receive their license. Suffice to say, it didn’t go well.

After a two-week sabbatical, Kaukab convinced my Aunt Lilia to help me achieve the teenage American dream. Luckily, she drove a small car with easy steering capability. Plus, she didn’t charge for her service.  All went well. Kaukab was happy. And, when Kaukab’s happy, everybody’s happy.

I’m not sure I’m going to say anything to Kaukab about violin girl’s first try at driving around parking lots, shifting in and out of gears with her father.

I don’t think she’s ready to hear that.


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