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Driving us up the wall with his new permit
My son and I have different definitions for his newly-acquired “learner’s permit.” He sees it as an excuse to drive to the store every 10 minutes. I define it as he may learn to drive if I permit it.
Tomato. To-mato. Let’s call the whole thing off. (Please?)
It’s not that I don’t want him to drive. I realize this is an important rite of passage in a young person’s life and I really would like him to learn properly and instill safe driving habits. It’s just the process is has been more difficult than I remember when I went through it.
For instance, the state has determined that he should learn on a real car, but the tools we need are still imaginary. Like a bubble-wrap outside air bag, the scratching post arm rests, and the passenger-side break pedal. I look like I’m doing the Texas Two-Step every time we get 500 feet out of the driveway.
While there are a lot of restrictions with a learner’s permit, there is one glaring omission in the rule book: 15 YEAR OLDS ARE ALLOWED TO DRIVE A CAR. But not between 10 p.m.. and 6 a.m. so I suggest you find out how late Publix is open and if you can arrive to work before sunrise. You’re welcome, Florida.
Because the DMV is apparently devoid of any bureaucratic hoops that would allow me to prolong the inevitable, we’ve had to implement a few restrictions of our own. Such as no driving with any of his younger siblings in the car. And no driving after dark. Or when it rains. Or during rush hour. Or on Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and alternating weekends. Or with the moon in Virgo.
But at least the written test proved he was road-ready. Questions like, When making a left-hand turn, do you, a) signal, come to a complete stop and wait for traffic to clear, b) play chicken with oncoming traffic or c) turn up the radio and hope for the best ensure he’s knowledgeable.
With all of that said and his 16th birthday just around the corner maybe there’s a more apropos definition to this temporary license.
Perhaps I’m going to have to eventually learn to permit this.
Or I’ll just turn up the radio and hope for the best.
--Tracey Henry
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Sharon Kennedy Wynne has sunscreen in her blood. She may have been born in Buffalo but she got here as fast as she could, in time for kindergarten. She grew up in St. Petersburg, graduated from the University of Florida journalism school, and even got married at Sunken Gardens. She's one of the few adults we know who actually loves taking her kids to the beach. She has two sons and with 10 years of parenting under her belt, she's starting to feel a little less out of her league. She comes from a large family and loves to debate, so brace yourself when the hot topics come up.
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Freelance writer Courtney Cairns Pastor wasn’t so sure about having kids and how she would balance child-rearing with her journalism career. It turned out that her journalism training went to good use. As the mom to a funny, active toddler, she learned to handle him like she did her sources. Never ask yes or no questions (the answer will always be no), get him to be specific (are you crying because you’re wet or your tooth hurts?) and be prepared for anything because no two days are the same. When she’s not playing trucks, Courtney crams for her book club, trains for races and occasionally bursts into showtunes. E-mail her at