My daughter, Katy, is learning to drive. She turned sixteen last August and received her driver's permit within the month. However, earning the actual driver's license has been a slow go. As she would say, "Mom, I'm busy." She's right, but I am still irked that I am the go to chauffeur in the house.
She's going for driving lessons with Fresh Green Light driving school. They have a terrific program. I am impressed with their techniques and professionalism. Post any lesson they send me, my husband and Katy an email review of the lesson. This is great because we are all on board with what she's learned, what she needs to practice and how she is progressing. However, this week's made me laugh out loud. Having driven with Katy more times than I can count over the last seven months (grrrr), I know what "John" (his name has been changed to protect the driving instructor) REALLY meant in this email.
Here's the actual email from Fresh Green Light driving school:
Dear Mrs. Murphy,
Katy had a productive lesson on Saturday. Her lesson route was through many urban areas of Stamford, New Canaan and Darien. Katy reviewed back-in parking and performed the maneuver well. Katy exhibits confident control of the car. For the future, Katy should be sensitive to her speed approaching traffic lights and stop signs; sometimes her speed is a little too assertive. Also, Katy should practice monitoring traffic ahead. Sometimes, because of her focus or speed, her reaction-time is slow. Otherwise, a commendable driving lesson.
FGL Driving Coach
It is a terrific note, however, here's what I imagine I would say, driving with Katy:
Drove with Katy on Saturday. We drove to the high school. At the light on Hecker and Noroton Heights, Katy made a left hand turn in front of oncoming traffic. As I see the cars approach my passenger side door I mouth to them "look out" and "I'm so sorry!" and scream, "Katy what the hell are you doing? You DON'T have the right of way!"
I take a few deep breaths and we continue. From the high school back home, I didn't yell, or clutch the door, or try to phantom break once. Katy wanted to listen to the radio, I kept turning it down. At stop signs, we count to three. I prompted her, "Slow down, do you see the pedestrians? Give them wide berth!!!!"
At the end of our drive, Katy pulled into our driveway. Katy put the car into drive instead of park and I saw my life and white fence flash by while I screamed, "STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP, STOOOOOOOOOOP." Luckily, she did before the car smashed through into the back patio. Otherwise, a great drive.