Everyday observations: The joys of teaching a teenager to drive
#1 Jamiroquai on Spotify: A Slight Distraction
The humid, hot day felt even more stifling in the back seat of the car. Jamiroquai played, doing little to ease my nerves. I watched as my teenage son took the wheel, his father in the passenger seat directing him on which lane to stay in. As I observed the other drivers on the road, overtaking, braking without warning and giving the finger, I had to ask, "How have people gotten their driving licenses?" The standards have seriously dropped, either that, or society is on the downward spiral of inconsiderateness, or that driver was just an [insert derogative adjective here].
#2 The Joys of Being a Passenger
Sitting back and letting someone else take control is a rare treat. As a passenger, I found myself noticing the little things: the way some drivers had one hand on the steering wheel while the other dangled lazily out an open window, the contemplative expressions on their faces, the metaphorical thought bubble above their heads
What’s for lunch?..
Damn, I hit a pothole…
The water bills need paying…
If I keep going straight, I can make it to Melbourne…
I wish I was back on holiday…
150million on the lotto tonight, if only…
This radio station sucks…
I should call my daughter…
Need petrol…
Better move away from that L plater…
#3 The Great White Drive
As we navigated through the streets, I noticed a trend: most cars were some shade of white. Take your pick: polar white, off-white, pearl white, or arctic white. White cars are apparently easier to keep clean and cheaper to insure. The familiar landscape of suburbia morphed into industrial zones as we approached the freeway. From the bridge, I saw into backyards—some overgrown, some meticulously manicured, others concrete jungles. I glanced at the passengers in other cars, most glued to their phones instead of enjoying the view outside. Why are we so obsessed with constant information? What happened to just looking out the window and daydreaming?
#3Coffee Snobbery
I was in desperate need of coffee and we needed petrol. Usually, I bring coffee from home because the quality of barista-made coffee has declined. I thought baristas had to finish a coffee-making course, but maybe their instructor preferred tea. As my dad always said, "If you don't like cooking, it's going to taste like crap." I can tell a bad coffee from the first sip and have no hesitation in letting them know. After all, coffee in Sydney costs a bomb and there is no excuse for bad coffee in this country.
#4 Milestones
My son had racked up over 100 hours of driving out of the required 120. He was eager to get his license and had already started making plans.
‘Mum, you'll never see me once I get my license,’ he joked.
Great, more sleepless nights for me. It's not him I'm worried about; it's the others. There's always someone else. No matter how old you get, a mother never stops worrying.
He'll always be my baby.
At the time of publication, I’m happy to report that my teenage son has passed the P plate test. Mission accomplished. My level of anxiousness has just hit a new high…
#everydayobservation #teenagedrivers #parentreflections #riteofpassage