| Last Edit September 29, 1999 My bedroom is a disaster area. I cleaned, and cleaned, and then I did laundry. And there it sits. I awake to this - with the alarm blaring on a Saturday morning, when I would much rather be asleep. The cats need grooming. The laundry needs folding. I haven't found the kitchen floor lately. I need sleep. I get up with one eye draining - allergy season - sinus overload. Burning and tearing and blurry. I eat decongestant. I inhale the allergy spray. I warp a scarf around my injured and protesting eyeball. My son, stumbling awake himself after much yelling and shaking and prodding on my part, calls me a pirate. I dozed off for an hour. And then--- It's time for his driving lesson. Quick. Before people start to populate the mall. Lesson number 3. I would send him out for road instruction elsewhere - but he hasn't passed the written test yet. First, I have to get gas. First, he has to back the van down the driveway and pull it around the truck and parallel park. At least, that was my intention. He leaves the van nearly 3 feet from the curb, well distanced from the truck. I have to walk up to it. He didn't want to hit the truck. With the van. Thought I might get upset. True. I get the gas. Interesting that the gas prices have dropped about 15 cents a gallon since the holidays are over. He refuses to pump the gas. He will do it next time or we will spend a lot of time at the pump. I get us to the mall, demonstrating clutch starts and stops all the way. In the passenger seat, I strap in securely, kick off my shoes and prepare. He will now drive for about an hour. I am carsick in 15 minutes. Donuts. He is tracing the patterns left by some fool with no concern for his tires. He has no concern for mine. I remind him he can roll this van. Too fast, too tight, roll over! The van with its little tires in the air would definitely make me very unhappy. He starts fast. And stops fast. And laughs. He finds the clutch. Sometimes. I remind him that Mother throwing up will cause the lessons to stop. He is, at least for now, not chasing birds. Not yet. He does get the car fast enough to shift into 3rd gear - but he's not ready to do that yet. He tries driving up and down the lanes. He pulls into parking stalls and checks the white lines. He pulls up next to concrete islands and checks how close he can get. He dodges walkers, and other drivers that randomly arrive. People stand at the entrance to the mall, watching the van make pass after pass around the parking lot. He moves across the Macy's lot and circles around to try clutch-on-a-hill. A van climbs our bumper so he stops, puts on flashers and waves the person around. In a big empty parking lot, how hard is it to avoid climbing someone else's bumper? How obvious can a driving lesson be? He takes great joy in momentary trips on a "street" (within the mall) with other drivers on it. I try hard not to think about it. We get to the movie parking lot - and find the birds. And a lot of trash. I am watching my watch at this point. Counting the minutes. He chases the birds. No! A car is not a toy! Yes it is. It's a Toyota. This time he lines up the tires and runs merrily over the drinking cups. Over and over. He has now practiced pulling into a parking stall. Has that down fairly well. After a few minutes of put-Mother-on-the-door, I decide the lesson is over. He drives back to the Sears lot - cruising on the little road again. Time to study the written part and get him that permit. I can't take many more days like this! |
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