Brendan got his drivers' license today. Fair warning, y'all...stay off the sidewalks!
He doesn't really want to drive. He just wanted to get his license because Jimmy made it a condition in order for him to continue to help with Brendan's tuition and other expenses. So. Maybe pushing Brendan a bit is not such a bad idea.
Driving has always been a sticky issue for me. My dad was a very timid driver, and my mother in the front seat was Hyacinth Bucket in the flesh; usually with a bit more of an edge--"For goodness sake, John, slow down!" "I'm only going 40." "I don't care! There's something wrong with the speedometer. Slow down! Just because everyone else is in a rush is no reason for us to be!" Mom had a license at one point, back in the 1930s, but was involved in a wreck and never drove again. She never would talk about it, so I don't know what really happened.
Nobody ever taught me to drive when I was a kid, and I grew up before there was Driver's Ed in schools. One's father was supposed to step up to the plate, but mine either couldn't or wouldn't. My friend's dad offered, but was politely refused by mine. I think he thought that, as it was his responsibility, it was better left undone than foisted off onto a neighbour. Yet another instance when my father put me at the bottom of his list.
Anyway, the upshot was that I didn't get a license until I was 45, and it was years after that when I finally began to enjoy driving.
The girls pretty much taught themselves, or got their boyfriends to teach them. I did take them practising...these grey hairs came from somewhere...and they have become good drivers.
Brendan has faced his fear, and emerged victorious! What's a few more grey hairs for Mom?
I was sitting in the waiting room when he came in, poker-faced. I figured all was well, because his poker face doesn't work when he is upset, disgruntled, angry, hurt, or otherwise in the throes of a negative emotion.
It's a good thing I wore a T-shirt, because I would have been busting buttons!