One of my proudest days;

The day my daughter received her driver's license

            Well at some point I knew it was going to happen.  The day had finally arrived and it was time to teach my oldest daughter to drive.  I was concerned about how it would go as we live in the city and she hasn't had any "real" driving practice to speak of.  There just aren't any old country roads to practice on like I had done for years before obtaining my license.  There was one visit to Michigan where her grandfather let her drive for a few miles on a deserted country road but that didn't give me much confidence (although she thought it was enough to give her a shot at qualifying for the front row of the Daytona 500).  We had to wait until she was old enough to get her learners permit and hit the streets to see how things went.  Not exactly how I learned but hey, it's what we had to work with.  My other big concern was that she already knew most everything about life and I was afraid anything I tried to teach her would turn into a battle of wits.

            The day she turned fifteen years and six months she obtained her learners permit and it was off to the races.  We started out slow, taking several short trips around the neighborhood working on the basic mechanics of operating the vehicle; turn signals, windshield wipers, lights, horn, shifting, braking and accelerating.  I balanced actually teaching her to drive while not sounding condescending or too critical of what she was doing.  I was actually impressed the first few times we went out, she really tried hard and was open to my comments and feedback about how she was doing.  After a few trips I thought that it may not be too bad after all.

            These days behind the wheel were some of the best times we had together.  We spent numerous hours just cruising around together in all different types of weather, when it rained I told her to get the keys you need to practice on wet roads.  After dark, once again we were off to experience night time maneuvers.  We practiced every type of braking, accelerating and parking situations until they were second nature.  Often times we would stop at convenience stores so I could get a soft drink and she could get some Skittles.  I showed her traffic patterns of various parking lots while she got some much needed parking experience (as well as learning how to eat and drive simultaneously).  At first she was really poor at judging distances to other parked cars and had a very hard time lining things up, even when pulling straight into a space.  She became much better over time and would always get out looking to see how she did.  It really would make me laugh to see the look on her face as she approached the spot.  I had never seen such looks concentration and determination on her face; she really wanted to get good at this.  One thing I could not get her to do was parallel park.  She was deathly afraid of it and her mother was no help saying things like, "Nobody parallel parks anymore, leave her alone".  Ok, I could live with that, everything else was going well.  We spent hours on cornering skills; often she steered too wide or bumped the curb while turning.  We practiced and practiced and every time she pulled off a good corner she would break out into a huge smile and celebrate.  Celebration is good and I was happy with her doing well but I was concerned that she would throw both arms in the air while pumping her fists in triumph.  Not exactly something I wanted to see, at least not while going down the road at forty five miles per hour.  So while I swelled up with pride inside I had to keep a calm demeanor on the outside as I didn't want to fuel her enthusiasm too much.

            Of all those hours spent in the passenger seat there's only one instance that really sticks out in my mind as one that neither one of us will soon forget.  While waiting to turn left at an intersection without a left turn arrow, the light was green and she had plenty of time to go before an approaching car would be of concern.  She started moving slowly through the intersection and I became concerned that we were running out of time to make it through safely.  I yelled for her to get going (she says that I yelled, I remember it a bit differently but it really doesn't matter now).  Well she got going alright, her foot went right to the floor and we took off like a rocket.  She cranked the wheel hard to the left and we went skidding through that intersection in a cloud of dust.  To this day I tease her about that intersection, telling everyone that we were on two wheels and I have no idea how we made it through without flipping over!

            The countless hours of practice paid off and the day she turned sixteen years and three months the Department of Motor Vehicles issued her drivers license, she passed her test with flying colors.

And now, after two years, I have stopped jumping out of my skin every time the phone rings while she's out.  I take great pride in knowing that I did everything possible to make her a safe and courteous driver under the most demanding conditions.  I look fondly back at those days spent with her and will always remember them as some of the proudest moments I've ever had.  I hope it goes as well with daughter number two.