This morning, I had to to go the vet, and my son had to get to school to pick up his schedule.
WE WENT IN DIFFERENT CARS!!!!!!!!!1
Because, yesterday, the boy passed his driving test.
I know, I know. Everybody gets there. I know, I know, now the worrying starts. It still feels good. For all of us. We live in the mountains, and unless your kid wants to walk/ride a bike several miles uphill on a major highway, he’s pretty much car-bound, in terms of getting to school, friends’ houses, music practices, etc., etc., etc. We’ve made it work. We’ve been as polite and pleasant to each other about coordinating schedules as it is possible to be. My husband did do a lot of the driving, but as the one who wasn’t working outside the house for many years and the one who’s working part-time now, yes, I did more of it. And my son is so ready. He didn’t rush things; he was pretty happy a year ago to hang out at home a lot, catch rides with us when necessary. But then, this year, he got a Life. It’s a good life, the right life for him, and one–I think–with a minimum of things to scare Mom and Dad. It’s a life he should be having, and one he should be able to get to. By himself.
Yeah, I should probably be feeling a big Wow! I should be thinking, in amazement, how did he get this big? And I am. I really am.
But, you know, also this,