As a general rule, there are a few ways I try NOT to start my day. I have a top ten, so to speak. Among them?
- Doing anything that causes the Diva to go into full emotional distress.
- Forget that the dog needs to go out after she eats, thereby ensuring I’ll have to pick up her breakfast on the backend before I can leave for school.
And, today, a new one:
- Allow my 18-year-old Korean host daughter (NG1), who’s learning how to drive, to drive me to school.
Unless I want to get really close to Jesus first thing in the morning.
And I do.
But not that way.
She’s been learning how to drive for about the past two months. We began by learning what the brake was because, I figure, knowing how to stop is the most important part of learning to drive. Right?
The first few tries were rough. For example, the second time, as we pulled into our garage, she got confused and mashed the accelerator. I can still see the walls of my home coming closer and closer at an increasingly rapid pace. I can still remember thinking, I’m about to have a bathtub on my head. I can still hear myself yelling, “STOP! STOP!” and see her face, as she translated the word into her language. See, teaching a teenager how to drive is bad enough, but when her reaction time is lengthened by language translation, it’s downright harrowing.
She’s gotten better and better with time, but I’ve never let her drive me in the morning, not wanting to go directly to bulk eating peanut M&M’s before I start my work day.
However, on a whim (don’t all bad stories start like that?), I decided that today was the day for her to drive me in the morning.
About 2 minutes into the drive, I realized my mistake.
We made it okay, until we got to the construction zone. Brake lights went on in front of us, and she sped up. Again, I said, “STOP! STOP!” only this time NG2 joined in the chanting. Again, I waited as she translated. Then, slowly rolled to a stop.
And began laughing hysterically.
Laughter is her coping mechanism.
Just what I want to hear at this point. It’s not even 7am for goodness sake.
She said she couldn’t see the brakelights because of the sun. There’s some good news.
I told her to open her eyes. Driving generally goes better with eyes open. Just a thought/recommendation.
We finally dropped the Diva off and headed toward our own school. I commenced to praying aloud. “Jesus, give me strength.”
Needless to say, by the time we made it to school, I needed a nerve pill with a Diet Coke chaser, and I’ve been off the DC sauce for 3 years now. My heart was racing. In my throat.
Add this one to the list.