Andrew finally did it. He got his driver’s license just in time to enlist in the U.S. Army (but that’s another story). He apparently forgot to smile when they took his picture. Not only that he posed like he was trying out for a wise guy role in the Sopranos. Heaven help Andrew if he ever gets pulled over. Even if he’s not guilty of anything, his driver’s license picture says its more than likely he did whatever they pulled him over for. And if I was cop I would check the trunk for a body while I was at it.

When Andrew told me he got his driver’s license, a voice in my head told me that we’d have to let him drive on our Christmas trip to see my parents. So the night before, we quietly discussed as a team of equal partners the idea of him driving during some part of our eight-hour journey to St. George. After much discussion and hushing, it was finally agreed that he would drive the Tonopah to Beatty leg. And on the way down he did okay considering he had to drive through some fog near Goldfield. And I did pretty good as well, I kind of felt like a Father Duck teaching his little duckling how to swim.

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But on the way back from St. George it was noticeably different.  At first,  Andrew and I had a mini-battle of wills as he wanted to go rogue on me and drive 80 mph because pretty much everyone else on US 95 was driving over eighty and he was being frequently passed, but I wasn’t comfortable with that and told him he that the max he could drive was 75 mph. Also as part of the deal he had to drive with two hands on the wheel at all times, which he violated several times when he was casually telling us stories about high school.

I couldn’t tell if there was a crosswind or not as we drove from Beatty, but the ride for some reason wasn’t very smooth and was even less smooth when he was taking one hand of the wheel to express himself. Finally though, we made it to Tonopah, but not before discovering that Tammy was laying in a fetal position with an acute case of motion sickness.

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As we passed the clown motel and pulled into the Chevron, Tammy announced that she would drive the next leg. Normally, I run a pretty tight ship as far as making driving assignments, but I wasn’t about to tangle with a nauseous Mama Bear. Sometimes, you have to know when to give way.

The rest of the trip went off without a hitch. We sang songs, played the alphabet game, and discussed the St. Petersburg’s paradox. It was good to get home. We survived and Andrew got to participate a little more in the human ant colony as he exercised his new power to drive. One more step toward his independence.