Eldest daughter has her learner’s permit and has been eager to drive–but not so much after she scraped the side of my van on the inside of the garage door.
The other day we were driving around town and I finally had to comment on her foot so heavy on both the gas AND the brake pedals. I often find myself saying, as we approach corners, stop signs and intersections: “brake, brake, brake.” Last weekend I wore a brace on my foot, because it hurt so much, that day, I figured out why: I can’t say “brake, brake, BRAKE” without my foot responding to the impulse and I must have strained it on an icy drive last week.
So, the other day, we’re driving and I find myself starting up with my new mantra when she did, actually brake, but by stomping, not by gently applying the brakes. “With you, it’s all er nothin'” I sang in my best Ado Annie/Ethel Merman.
“Huh?” she asked, and the youngest in the back seat pulled the earbuds from her ear and squelched “what was THAT?”
“You drive sort of like you live,” I commented to my eldest. “Full go or full stop and not a stitch in between.”
“Yeah,” she laughed. “I do.”
“Let’s work on that in-between stuff,” I said. And we have, both in driving and in living.
It’s been a much better week.