Friday, April 22, 2011

#1 Is My CoPilot

We made a trip to town early this morning. Because the weather was wet and not conducive to grass-mowing, the #1 son went with me instead of driving his own little red truck. It's been a month or two since he rode shotgun.

He's a professional driver now, you know. He might as well be teaching other 16-year-olds how to drive. I have been doing it wrong all these years, apparently.

Do as I say, not as I do. Stop signs are meant to be stopped at. But I don't see anybody coming, and we're in the middle of nowhere.

I NEVER stop at that stop sign.

You'll get a ticket. Then your insurance will go up. And YOU'RE going to pay.

Yeah. Right.

We'll probably be taking this way all weekend. It's going to keep raining, and that bridge will be over.

I hate this road. It's so boring. I keep going straight here, and come out on the county road.

What? I told you to take this one! That's a death trap! You can't see to pull out.

I'll be fine.

Now I have something else to worry about.


Isn't that noise annoying?

Well, if you wouldn't run your windshield wipers so fast when there's not any rain, it wouldn't make noise. At least turn it down a notch.

There. Now I can't see out the windshield.

It's weeping. Because you don't know how to run the windshield wiper. I said turn it down ONE notch.

I did. See now?

You turned that up way more than one notch.

No. I didn't.

This car has got to have more than three notches. My truck has about 12.

I don't.

Oh, this is a really good place to pull out. And you said mine was bad.

It's fine. You just have to get up to speed before they come over that hill.

You go too slow.

I'm going 55. That's the speed limit. Maybe it's 45.

No way. That's in town. I always go 60.

SIXTY! That's too fast for this road.

When we come back, let's go the right way.

The bridge is over.

Probably. But I want to see it.

And we can waste my gas to drive up to a bridge and turn around to come back the other way.

Well, I don't want to waste mine!


Mommy Needs a Xanax said...

Heheh. When I was his age, my dad gave me strict instructions to never do over 45 on regular roads, regardless of the speed limit, and 60 on the interstate. Of course he had no way to enforce this, but threatened to take my license for eternity if anyone told him they'd seen me driving fast or otherwise acting a fool in the car. Of course I probably wasn't as mature as #1.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Don't overestimate the maturity of #1. He gouged a hole in his forearm during a faux swordfight when spending the night with his cronies two weeks ago.

Kathy's Klothesline said...

It could have been worse ..... you could have been riding with him.

Hillbilly Mom said...

You are OH SO RIGHT! He drives like his dad: gas/gas/gas, brake/brake/brake. A true chip off the old leadfoot.