Wednesday, September 26, 2007


So the past couple of days I’ve had a cold relapse. Had a touch of something before my trip last week, kicked it, then it came back on Friday, kicked it again, then yesterday—BAM—felt like dirt that had been excavated, pummeled to a fine dust, then compacted into the earth. So when Teen Son asked if he could drive me around (he’s got a permit that somehow makes this legal), I said, “Sure.”

Loved it. Well, except for the times I had to shout, “Red light, red light, RED LIGHT.” Other than that, it’s all good. There’s something about being chauffeured around that I could get used to. You’d think I lived in LA or NY or somewhere busy like that. I don’t really, but I’m a mom and when your kids begin to get a life you can start feeling like a grossly underpaid and underappreciated (*sniff*) taxi driver whose route feels like one of those British turnstiles that seemingly never end.

So what’s my point? I’ve no idea. I’m sick, remember? I think I’ll just curl up with a good book (got a stack yea high), and wait for my ride to get here.

If you’ve ever been driven around by a permitted-but-not-yet-licensed driver, tell me your story.


Anonymous said...

Ha, this really made me appreciate my parents & their many days of being chauffeured around. Unfortunately my mom gets car sick. At least she does when a 16 year old Sarakastic was driving. Feel better.

Rebecca LuElla Miller said...

Hahah--you have a great sense of humor, Julie, even when you're not feeling well. Don't know how you do it!

My funny story is when my sister was a permitted driver and I was nothing but her younger passenger, in the backseat with mom acting as shotgun. This was also a stick shift. In Santa Barbara. Back in those days, there was a series of four stop lights, usually red, that interrupted the freeway.

My sister had a little trouble releasing the clutch at the right point, which caused us to jerk back and forth. Of course my mom was also trying to tell her to give it more gas. The whole thing caused us all to laugh, which made my sister release the clutch too fast or ease off on the gas, and we proceeded to jerk some more.

Then, at the next light, we got to do it all over again.

I suppose you had to be there. LOL


Julie Carobini said...

Ah, Sarakastic, good for you. Appreciation for parents is a lost art. The more my kids work me over, the more I appreciate mine, lol. Btw, I'm on the mend.

And Becky, I totally know where you're talking about--near that 100+year old tree, right? LOL That was such a weird place for a freeway. Memories...

Rebecca LuElla Miller said...

Yep, right there where State Street intersected the 101.

Glad to hear you are on the mend!


Dan Navarro said...

Yep, I too was riding shotgun for three (3) -- count 'em -- THREE permitted but unlicensed drivers: My kids!

We used the Rose Bowl parking lot, in Pasadena. When there's no games or other events going on, the place is pretty much deserted. Perfect spot to practice driving with a newbie.

Glad to report, all three kids grew up sane and sensible, and all have good driving records to this day. Gotta love 'em.