"She made 100 psychiatrists laugh."
Christina Raposa, Mental Health,
Scarborough Hospital
As my kid was slamming the car door yelling. “ Mom I hate you”, I realized teaching your kids to drive is a lot like natural childbirth. All that breathing sounds like a good idea until the first contraction, its damn the torpedoes and every man for himself.
I wanted the driving lesson to turn out differently. Perhaps me clutching the dashboard, saying the rosary didn’t instill confidence.
In my day, it was different. We wrote a test, got our license in the afternoon, drove on the big highway that night.
Today they have this G1 and G2 and Gee Mom stop yelling I need to go the speed limit.
The rules have changed. We had to learn to park on a hill. Was it wheels turned in on the down slope or was it out on the up? I still don’t get that right. Today there are no hills. There’s only mall parking. They have to do perpendicular parking and be able to back in between the two white lines. I was out there flagging her in thinking you’re never going to do this once you pass your test. By the way a big apology to a green van at Centre Square mall.
After a few crying incidents, her crying, me driving along side of her, saying, “ Get in the damn car you can’t walk all the way home.” I decided to hire a driving
Full Story