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••• Thursday, October 16, 2003

Baby, You can Drive My Car
With all my domestic preoccupations this past week I have neglected to share an update on the boy's driving status. First of all, two weeks ago I found out homecoming was October 11th, not this coming weekend, as I originally believed. We immediately upped the daily mileage and Cam made haste to get an appointment with the "tester."

Soon after we make the appointment, my son confides that he's feeling awkward with his girlfriend because he doesn't feel the same about her, but she doesn't know. He feels obligated to take her to the dance anyway but dreads trying to keep up appearances without hurting her feelings.

I did some social worky mama mojo on him and he came to the mature decision that she had a right to know about his change of heart before the dance so she could make an informed decision about going with him. He immediately made the phone call and she decided not to attend the dance under the new conditions. So,no homecoming dance.

This was a real tough one for me, as my heart ached for both of them, for varying and similar reasons. And while he was relieved to have made the decision, the night of the dance he admitted to feeling some guilt about her sitting home. They chatted on-line that night, so evidently are still friends.

Since the appointment was made, we decided to proceed with the road test. Here in Michigan, you no longer go to the DMV or Sheriff's department for your road test. The state has now "privatized" by contracting out to local driving instructor companies. This particular "company" is a tiny mobile shed sitting in the back of a large parking lot behind a cosmetic orthodontics office (are there any other kind of orthodontists?). It's kind of cheesy.

In front of the "shed" are several positioned "sticks on traffic cones" used in the parking portion of the test. The parking test comes first, and the road test will proceed only if enough points are earned on the parking test.

Cam is instructed to beep his horn after he completes each parking maneuver. I'm nervous, so park my butt on a log that sits where the parking lot meets a wooded area. After sitting a minute, I realize the area smells faintly of pee and stale booze. I hope and pray the stank is coming from somewhere behind me, and not the log.

I can't watch, so put my head on my folded arms. I hear the car move, move then a beep. Another move and a beep. Next I hear move, move, move crunch, snap, plastic squeak, pop, crunch. I look up and see that in his attempt to parallel park, he's taken down the sticks of all three cones on the passenger side.

The tester is trying to extricate a stick from the front wheel-well, and my son's head is resting on the steering wheel, likely in mortification. I yell "Beep!" Cam looks up laughing hard, honks the horn and I give him a thumbs up. He shakes his head and returns the gesture.

Despite the demolition, he earned enough parking points to move on to the road test. Momma's gotta sit in the back seat and keep her mouth shut unless spoken to. Momma appreciates being distracted by the continued scent of pee and booze and wonders if she's now wearing it on her rear.

Cam did very well on the road test, under some difficult conditions. For a portion of the test, he was instructed to drive through a highly populated residential area. He was told to turn a corner where there was limited visibility until the turn was complete. Here in the road, just feet in front of us are about 7 kids playing football. I yelled "whoa!" and slapped my hand over my mouth.

The tester joked that the kids were on his payroll. Two blocks later, a boy riding a bike down the sidewalk darted out in front of him. I gasped, and silently slapped myself again. Two minutes later, on a very busy road, a large group of kids walking and on bikes, moved slowly along the curb. Suddenly one of the bikes teetered. I was silent. The tester finally said "we didn't pay all these guys."

As we were nearing the end of the test, we drove past an intersection where a huge black labrador was standing in the middle of the adjacent road, staring at the path in front of our vehicle as though thinking..."the middle of this road is good, but I wonder if that one is better." I thought "don't you dare, dog breath." He stayed put. None of us spoke of it until we were back at the "company" and debriefing. We talked about all the "obstacles" and the tester admitted it was the worst he'd seen. I asked if everyone had seen the dog and we all laughed and said yes, but had been too frightened to even mention it.

This part of the excursion made me think of police shooting drills where the mommas with babies jump out of trash cans to test the cop's visual acuity and self-control.

He also did very well on the expressway portion and I was glad we had the little heart-to-heart about merging. Some people seem to believe that "merge" and "magic" are synonymous. You know these drivers. As they descend the entrance ramp they close their eyes, speed up, and go "wheeee!!." After they open their eyes, they find themselves magically merged amidst the appreciative honking of fellow drivers.

Well, "we" passed. And every night since, he's asked if I need something from the store. I remember how fun that was (at first), so I always think of something he can fetch. I'm glad for his new found independence, but it certainly opens up a new can of emotional worms.

From the Mouths of Pigs
I haven't measured my shawl in a while, but I think I have about 10 inches to go. My Weekend Knitting by Melanie Falick (how is that pronounced?) arrived in the mail yesterday. It's a very cool collection, although I haven't really had time to truly savor each page.

I've caught the Booga J fever, and may be putting that on a to-do list real soon. The Cakers needs a new something for fall...so I better hoofing it. ::squealing outta here::
# posted by Marcia @ 2:41 PM


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