The weather is clear, cool, crisp; I'm sitting in front of my computer, taking a break from my nutrition text, trying to figure out where all my time has gone to. It seems just last year, not ten years ago, that I had a spirited 5 year old; now my daughter is looking forward to learning to drive! She and her father have decided that I don't have the temperament to teach her (phew); D has already taught two how to manage, and he's exhausted just thinking about a third.
I remember my mother teaching me, in busy New Jersey; at first I would always stop at yellow lights. The notion of slowing was somewhat difficult to grasp; it was either on or off, 0 or 1. Changing lanes on the highway—THERE was a challenge at the beginning. My poor mother saying, " NO, make a smooth transition. You don't TURN into the lane!!"
But I managed to drive myself (with my mother in the passenger position) all the way to the New England state where the car was registered to get my license. With the official in the car, I drove; stopped; turned; signaled; parallel parked.
Then: "Put on the hand brake."
I sat there for what seemed an hour. Then I pushed down on a pedal I hadn't known was there. "Is this it?" I asked.
"Yes, it is," said the official, and signed the document that allowed me to get my license.