Thank goodness they only turn 16 once

It was a day I had both looked forward to and dreaded. Only once in a parent’s life does your oldest child blow out the candles on his 16th birthday cake then immediately demand to be driven to the nearest DMV to obtain legal permission to drive unsupervised. Of course this license would allow the child- uh, young adult- to assist his parents in the transporting of younger siblings to appointments such as school, baseball, soccer, and youth group to name a few. But the torture a parent endures during such journeys is comparable to an uninsured root canal. On my son’s first try, the DMV officer was uncooperative. Perhaps her concern was related to the fact that the tires on my son’s truck contacted the curb on his attempt at a three-point road turn. I knew he was in trouble when they returned to the parking lot about forty-five seconds after they left. My fears were confirmed when he gave me the “thumbs down” as he and his examiner approached the side door in silence. While trying to console my eldest on the drive home, I suddenly noticed in the rear view mirror a large black object skyrocketing upwards behind me. Turns out it was the bedliner of my son’s truck. The same truck I was driving at the time. I watched in horror as a man driving one of those over-sized work trucks behind me swerved to avoid the oncoming object, an object whose course appeared destined to meet with the man’s windshield. His success at dodging the bedliner was the most impressive feat I have witnessed since Dale Earnhardt passed Bill Elliott by going off the track and onto the grass at the old Charlotte Motor Speedway. I quickly pulled off the road and sprinted back toward the bedliner, which was still resting in the middle of the highway a couple hundred yards away. My son stood beside the truck- why I don’t know. When he saw his dad dragging the liner in the grass along the highway, he finally decided to join in and help. As he approached me, I knew I had a choice to make. We were both completely outdone and exasperated. When our eyes met as he reached me, I cracked. Up, that is. I began laughing so hard I lost my breath. And he quickly followed suit. “Do you realize how stupid you look dragging that thing down the highway,” he asked. “Yes, I do, that’s why I’m running, you fool.” One week later, my son entered the side door of the DMV after his test and announced that he needed $15. “I guess that means you passed,” sighed Dad. This despite the fact he ran the stop sign in front of the DMV building just before we entered the parking lot that morning. A little later, as he left our driveway and rode off into the sunset, I waved goodbye wondering if I would ever see him again. And suddenly I felt a whole lot older than I had a month earlier. But I was comforted by the fact that he would be returning soon enough. He couldn’t make it too far with the price of gas what it is. Plus, a bedliner held in place by two bungee cords can’t hold out too long.