A Last

There are many lasts in life where you wish someone or something had tapped you on the shoulder and said “This is it. Enjoy it. Appreciate it. Remember it.”

Teaching your youngest child to drive is not one of those lasts.

I’m a gasper. I gasp at playoff hockey. I gasp when I watch my kids play soccer and basketball. I gasp when I am in the passenger seat.  However, when I really fear for my life? I whimper. Yesterday, I whimpered.

She came in hot into the parking space at the general store/gas station/Dunkin Donuts. Immediately in front of a guard rail. With a steep drop on the other side.

To date, there have been no tears from either of us.  However, we are only 51 minutes into the required 40 hours of supervised driving.

All kidding aside (okay, there hasn’t really been any kidding), she is doing a great job. And she is the cutest thing ever. But I am looking forward to when this particular last is over.

Today, the highway.  Wish us luck.