Oh my Heavens. I sit here trembling like a hooker in church. I hope I can remember how to do this and better still, I hope you remember me and the good times we've had. Perhaps there are a few more left in us. Shall we give it a try?
Good.
I thought I would give you a little update from my home. The biggest? My daughter got her driver's license. Let me confess that the day she was to take it was doomed from the start according to the geniuses hovering over Doppler Radar for they promptly announced every kind of weather in existence from thunder-snow to flesh eating fog and let us not neglect pollen blooms of epic proportions and sharknadoes. Poor kid wouldn't drive there and worried the entire ride. And for those of you with smart mouths, I DID NOT GET LOST! In fact, we were EARLY! By about four days. heehee How do you like me now?
Well as we wait in line, I am trying to soothe and comfort her which is received with eye rolling and a quiet whisper of "Mom? Please stop. It's not helping." I'm glad we have an open, supportive relationship. It truly brings me a soul-warming satisfaction. And as I look ahead I see a tiny man with glasses, greasy hair and a shirt half tucked in to his trousers which are amazingly high. He has on a belt or is it a necktie? Not too sure. Anyway, he is wiping his nose and rubbing his clipboard as if he wants to sit next to a hooker in church. I sigh and want to tell my lovely girl that it will be okay if she doesn't pass. As many of you know, my little ray of sunshine crinkled my beloved Gizmo by driving into a bush. I have noticed "rubbers" or rub marks where she has kissed the car in front of her or a curb or ... who knows. But I am trying to think of something great to say and then it happens...
A yeti knocks on the window. I jump and squeal, causing my daughter to do the same. Resembling a light blue jumping bean, I roll down the window and the yeti asks who is taking the test. Madi meekly raises her hand and I hear her swallow a hard lump of terror. He looks down, down, DOWN at me and says: "passenger out" I flip open the door and Madi and I begin a Chinese firedrill that the Yeti has no choice but to partake in . As he begins to sit, I jump back at him and splutter "PUTTHESEATALLTHEWAYBACK!" I hear the crackling noise as the cartilage in his knees begins to disintegrate. The sasquatch flips me a look. "Sorry for your legs." I shrug and he pulls the door shut, puts the clipboard on his lap and begins to write with his mouth because his knees are up around his ears. He hates us.
She drives off.
My heart begins to pound and a lump is heavily lodged in my throat. I feel old. I am sad. She is one more step toward independence and not needing me. She is growing at an alarming rate and no matter how I've tried, time has slipped passed me and I feel a strange urge to get a car seat and sippy cups and be excited to find petrified Cheerios all over Gizzie. My eyes well up with tears and I reach in to my purse for my phone to call Cheech.
She comes around the turn and begins to pull up. WHa???? I am convinced the Big Foot has devoured her or has passed out due to circulatory issues. I fumble with my electronics and begin to video.(for the record, I was so nervous and excited that I forgot to aim it sooooo I got a lot of audio, and pictures of gravel. Nice one Mom) The Abominable Drive Instructor unfolds from Gizzie in glorious Khafka fashion. I look at my daughter who is stone faced and gripping the wheel. I am rushing the car and the Big Foot
"Well? Well? What happened? How did you..."
And the missing link flashes his eyes at me. I stop short. I wait... He gives me a thumbs up and a half smile ... or maybe he ate a small finch that flew by. But I duck and peek at her. She is staring at the road. She looks at me and says oh-so-nonchalantly... I did it.
I squeal and jump in to hug her around bucket seats, gear shifts and purses. The horn honks and we are giggling and crying; both of us talking at the speed of ... well sound ... each letter on top of another...
What was it like?
It was hard
I was nervous
Were you nervous?
Was he nice?
He was great
And I let a few more tears spill as the lump in my throat got a little tighter. I drove her to the DMV and we got all our documents set. I drove her home and we laughed about her license and a new career in NASCAR. Then Boo came home. They began to laugh and their heads bobbed together and suddenly my keys are gone and she is loading him up and they are talking a mile a minute ... and getting ready to drive away
without me.
I put my hand over my mouth and pout. I frown and feel so sad. She backs up. The music is blaring and Gizzie's top is coming down. I throw my hand up and race down the drive with a thundering heart and panic stricken face
WAAAAIT MADI WAIIIIIT !!!
I am flailing and rushing toward them. Gizmo jerks to a stop and they look at me. I rest my hands on the edge of the car and look at them; my babies all grown up, responsible, heading out alone in to the big scary world.
"Stop and get milk." I smile and head back to the house. I pour a glass of wine and toast all parents who realize how sad it is....
That the driving age is so late ....
Well brief indeed but we need to ease back into things dontcha think? I hope you smiled with me. Thank you for visiting and I hope to see you soon.
Much love
Tessa
