That damn stop sign
I have moments, days and even weeks where I think a lot about my dad and the things that we use to do when I was growing up. Now that I have a 16 year old daughter, I wonder if he felt the same things that I feel, think the same things that I think.
At this time in my life, I am struggling a bit with my 16 year old because she does not want a single thing to do with getting her permit. Something that she should of had last summer at this time. I always imagined what it would be like to teach my child/children how to drive and all that would come with that- the good and the bad. The memories that would be forged, but she is denying me all of that. Brat!!
One of the most awful, yet joyful times in my life with my dad was when we was showing me how to drive. My experience may have been different than most, because I grew up in the country- surrounded by corn feilds, cattle and farms and country roads that allowed you to drive 89 mph and kill multiple birds with one swoop.
My learning-how-to-drive-experience was not always fun.. because of those conditions. I had to deal with gravel roads, dirt roads and COWS.My dad however had a remedy, and it looked something like this:
The biggest, badest truck you ever did see- that he wanted me to learn how to drive.
Yea right!!
..and dad didnt play around, he was totally serious. That was my first vehicle in which I was suppose to learn to drive.
This thing was a monster, I practically needed a step ladder to get in it.. and it was push button start with I swear, nitro jet packs on the back for that extra kick on the country roads.
So, I am finally getting somewhat comfortable on the "straight" country roads, when dad decides that it is time for a challenge. A "challenge".. what the hell does that mean??? I'm wondering.
As we start to round the bend, I know exactly where we are headed and I am starting to freak out....I tell dad that "There is no way that I can stop" and he says "Yes you can, what are you talking about?"
..at this point, I am almost hyperventilating... "Dad, I cant do it, the truck wont stop us in time.. it wont.. it wont" and he has just about had it with me. "Peggy Sue (in his deepest southern accent), stop it, we will be fine. Slowly step on the break, and we WILL stop at the stop sign.. I promise"
I of course did not believe him.. because he had me driving this big ass truck...
...down this steep ass hill into the river..
I just new we would never stop in time.. I just new it.
That is the only time I did not believe my dad..but after surviving- and being proved wrong- I believed everything he ever told me after that.
At this time in my life, I am struggling a bit with my 16 year old because she does not want a single thing to do with getting her permit. Something that she should of had last summer at this time. I always imagined what it would be like to teach my child/children how to drive and all that would come with that- the good and the bad. The memories that would be forged, but she is denying me all of that. Brat!!
One of the most awful, yet joyful times in my life with my dad was when we was showing me how to drive. My experience may have been different than most, because I grew up in the country- surrounded by corn feilds, cattle and farms and country roads that allowed you to drive 89 mph and kill multiple birds with one swoop.
My learning-how-to-drive-experience was not always fun.. because of those conditions. I had to deal with gravel roads, dirt roads and COWS.My dad however had a remedy, and it looked something like this:
The biggest, badest truck you ever did see- that he wanted me to learn how to drive.
Yea right!!
..and dad didnt play around, he was totally serious. That was my first vehicle in which I was suppose to learn to drive.
This thing was a monster, I practically needed a step ladder to get in it.. and it was push button start with I swear, nitro jet packs on the back for that extra kick on the country roads.
So, I am finally getting somewhat comfortable on the "straight" country roads, when dad decides that it is time for a challenge. A "challenge".. what the hell does that mean??? I'm wondering.
As we start to round the bend, I know exactly where we are headed and I am starting to freak out....I tell dad that "There is no way that I can stop" and he says "Yes you can, what are you talking about?"
..at this point, I am almost hyperventilating... "Dad, I cant do it, the truck wont stop us in time.. it wont.. it wont" and he has just about had it with me. "Peggy Sue (in his deepest southern accent), stop it, we will be fine. Slowly step on the break, and we WILL stop at the stop sign.. I promise"
I of course did not believe him.. because he had me driving this big ass truck...
...down this steep ass hill into the river.. I just new we would never stop in time.. I just new it.
That is the only time I did not believe my dad..but after surviving- and being proved wrong- I believed everything he ever told me after that.
posted by Peggy at 1:50 PM
1 Comments:
Ahaha!
is that the hill like by the resteraunt you used to work at? i forgot the name, but the one that leads into that town?
ahahha
Post a Comment
<< Home