Driving Lessons

When I was four years old, I narrowly avoided being guilty of vehicular manslaughter.

Wait. Maybe we should go back to the beginning.

As a child, I emulated my mom. As a stay-at-home mother, she was the central adult figure in my life during my childhood. I followed her around everywhere and loved it when she gave me attention. Being the middle of five children, this cherished attention was something I basically had to fight tooth and nail for.

One afternoon, I devised a plan to get it.

Mom chose a hot summer day to wash the family car, including the interior. I really wanted to help out, but she shooed me away and called upon my sister to help, since she was older and had meticulous cleaning and organizing skills (something that is evident today in her Martha Stewart-esque home). So for the rest of the afternoon, my hurt pride and I sat on the back step, watching while they got to have all of the ‘fun’.

After the cleaning supplies were put away and the sun began to dry up all of the soapy water from the driveway, I decided to take it upon myself to inspect the quality of the cleaning job on the old family car. I opened the door and crawled into the car, hot from sitting in the sun all day. The pine-fresh smell and cushioned driver’s seat were so inviting, a great place to sit and relax. Then I saw it - the gleam of the silver key hanging from the ignition, which my mom foolishly forgot to take back inside the house. What a perfect opportunity to play “mommy”.

This was going to be easy-after all, I had seen her do it countless times. I reached to the dashboard for her sunglasses and put them on. I wiggled around the rearview mirror-I had no idea the function of it at the time, I just remember it’s something that Mom always did. I pushed the key forward and could feel the engine come alive. A pull of the gear shift jolted the car forward.

Oh shit. What have I done?

The car very slowly started driving down the front lawn. I could hear yelling to my left, but I was too frozen with fear to even move. Suddenly my dad appeared and jumped into the driver’s side door which I had left swinging open, ending my high-speed chase.

Finally! I’m going to get some attention from my mom. She’s going to be so impressed with what a big girl I am.

My fantasy was crushed when I saw my parents hugging my brother, who I had narrowly avoided hitting while he played on the lawn.

Seriously, what does a kid have to do to get some attention around here?