Quite a few years ago, after my only daughter had just crashed her car into a parked vehicle while driving and trying to keep a milkshake from accidentally falling out of her hand at the same time, I raced to the scene to find her basically unhurt, although the front of her car looked like an accordion. While talking to the policeman who had phoned me, I also learned she had left her driver’s license at home, forgot to put her proof of insurance in the glove compartment, and came within a few inches of having her head go through the windshield.
As the anger inside of me began to build, I wanted to grab my beloved daughter by the shoulders and shake her until she completely understood the fact that parents live under the very comforting illusion that if they spend 18 years or so properly raising their children, then those children will somehow grow into reasonably responsible and mature young adults who will no longer worry us to death. After those 18 long and hard years, the very last thing we ever want to get is a phone call in the middle of the night informing us that our child’s life has been snuffed out in a stupid automobile accident!
My daughter is my oldest child, and after her accident, I decided I would make an even more determined effort to make sure her younger brothers were properly trained in how to drive a motor vehicle before they were ever turned loose with one.
“You were more or less a Nazi,” explained my middle son when he recently described my driver training techniques.
“But you’ve never been in an accident, have you?” I reminded him.
However, realizing that I may have indeed gone a little bit overboard with my oldest and middle sons, I reluctantly agreed to let the latter take my youngest son out on his first couple of driver training forays.
“So, how did he do?” I asked with great interest when they had finally returned safely from the first one.
“Well,” explained my middle son, while my obviously worried youngest son looked on, “he actually did pretty good. In fact, he did everything really well except for one little thing.”
“And what was that?” I asked with interest.
“Well, he doesn’t steer very well. But honest, Dad, he did everything else great!”
“He can’t steer?”
“Not too well. He has a kind of hard time keeping his car on his side of the road.”
“But what’s the bloody good of doing everything else well if he can’t steer?”
“I’ll get better,” my youngest son quickly promised.
Anyway, to make a long story short, after quite a bit of negotiations, I finally agreed that instead of me or his older brothers being responsible for teaching my youngest son how to drive, his mother (who is much more tactful than all of us put together) would give it a shot.
“So,” I asked my youngest son after he and his mother had been out on a few test drives, “how goes the driver training?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“Are you always staying right around or under the speed limit?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to always remember that there’s absolutely no need to get to where you’re going a few minutes earlier by speeding.”
“I will,” he promised.
“And are you always looking into your mirrors?”
“Yes, I try to.”
“Good, because it’s just as important to know what the people around and behind you are doing as it is to know what’s going on up in front of you.”
“I know that dad. You’ve told me that a hundred times.”
“Has your mother mentioned to you that I don’t ever want you talking on a cellphone while you’re driving, or eating a Carl’s Jr. burger, or playing your music so loud you can’t concentrate on driving, or chatting non-stop with whoever you’ve got in the car with you?”
“Yeah, she’s said all of that stuff, dad.”
“Good. And do you understand that you should always check to make sure that there’s enough air in your tires before going any place? Not enough air in your tires can cause an accident.”
“I always check the tires, dad.”
“And of course, you know that you absolutely always have to wear your seatbelt, and under no circumstances are you ever to get behind the wheel of a car if you’ve been drinking.”
“I would never do that, dad.”
“Well,” I had to admit, “it sounds like things are going pretty well and you should be ready for your driver’s test soon. Plus, your mother tells me you now steer better than anyone in the family.”
“Yeah, I think I should be able to pass that test with no problem.”
“Good. So, I guess letting your mother teach you how to drive turned out to be best for everyone.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“And it sounds like you’ve learned all the things I wanted you to know. Was there anything else you learned that kind of surprised you?”
“Just one thing, dad.”
“And what was that?”
“I had no idea that Mom knew so many cuss words.”