Vignettes: The Car

Note the name of the company. Photo Source

K will soon turn 15. Soon. Very soon. WAY TOO SOON. This means, in the state in which we live, that he will be driving on a graduated license. So, as I drive him around town and to school each morning, I give him advice. Pointers, if you will. He’s not very appreciative for a person who will triple my insurance premiums and be begging me for gas money in the very near future.

Me: So, I think the hardest part of driving when you’re young is parking. That’s what we’ll start with next month, you know. Parking. And pulling out of parking spaces.

K: Mom. Seriously?

Me: Yes! Think about it. You’re going in reverse. You want to reverse the way you are turning the wheel, because it’s backwards and all, but you don’t. You still turn the wheel the same way you would if you were going forward. Man, when I was your age, I was memorizing things like this! And which way to turn the signals—I kept trying to confuse that as well. Hell, during my driving test I almost had a panic attack about if I was turning the right signals on, or if I had messed it up in my head again.

K: Again?

Me: Shut up.

K: Again? Mom. No one but you would have anxiety over these types of things.

***

K won’t be practicing his driving skills in my car. Because my car is new. It’s the first new car we’ve ever owned. I don’t even know how to handle new cars, and all of their gadgets…

Last winter, on one of the three days that exhibited some semblance of winter weather (meaning ice, in MO—and as an aside, the lack of winter this year is still disconcerting to me) I was driving to work, and I was a mess.

Despite spending the first half of my childhood in Colorado, I hate driving in ice. This is because I actually know how to drive in ice, but I live in a college town filled with young people who don’t. Like the one who slowed to a stop in the middle of an icy hill, right in front of me, causing me to have to stop only partially uphill.

After a yelled conversation between the two of our cars and one more, we got him turned around and headed back down. It was now my turn to try to climb the icy hill. Steady foot on the gas, popping the brake, hands at ten and two… and while I was inching up the hill, I was having a hell of a time with traction. The new car was shaking it’s ass.

Car: Beep-beep.

Me: Yes, Car. I know. We’re having problems with traction!

Car: Beeeeep-beeeeep.

Me: Gah! Stop it already! I know!

Car: BEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEP!

Me: Stop judging me dammit! I’m doing the best I can.

That’s when I heard a plink. The plink of something on the left of the steering column turning on. It’s called traction control.  I didn’t even know my car could do that.

***

Nana: I’m never riding with your younger son, just so you know.

Me: What? Did? You? Do?

Nana: The boys wanted to drive go-carts, and Ant told me that he’s allowed to drive his own…

Me: NO.

Nana: Well, I know that now. And after we got kicked out of the first one…

Me: What?

Nana: He was going too fast.

Me: And?

Nana: And he squealed the tires around the corners.

Me: And?

Nana: He may have intentionally careened his cart into K’s.

Me: Oh, God.

Nana: So at the second track I rode with him in the double cart…

Me: And?

Nana: Well, the parent’s side controls didn’t work.

***

Me: Your father will have to teach you how to parallel park, however. I don’t do it. Ever.

K: Wait. What do you mean that you don’t parallel park? Isn’t that on the test?

Me: It is. But I didn’t do it then either.

K: I thought you had to pass the parallel parking in order to pass the test. I thought it was worth that many points.

Me: Technically, it is. But, I was born in August. And the test administrator was very grateful that I actually had air conditioning in my car during the test. So he gave my extra credit for that.

K: They can do that?

Me: I don’t think so, but I wasn’t going to argue.