Rachel can drive now. Licensed.
Her 16th birthday? Woohoo, big deal. Just another birthday. Because nowadays, getting your drivers license is not necessarily a part of your 16th fiesta. More rules and regulations cause delay, especially when the Mom doesn't realize the rules and regulations. Bygones.
Between drivers ed and the acquisition of the learners permit AND the actual point of freedom six months later, we looked at cars. And by "we" I mean everyone I conned into helping me, from my brother, to my neighbors to my guy college students (who kept trying to Talk Cars with me and I kept reminding them that I'm a girl and don't care as long as it's cute and runs well - much to their disgust, I might add).
I finally settled on getting her a VW New Beetle, if one could be procured without a car payment or too much money. Because in 16 years, I've learned a thing or two about my daughter - she is not neat, she is not terribly careful, she easily forgets how much things cost, she writes off small bumps and scrapes as nothing and she is messy.
She's also a sucker for packaging. And if the car is cute and not like everyone else's, the chances are she'll take better care of it. Heh, how's that for parenting psychology?
And then the day came, six days before the license could be obtained - The Car was found. Whatever made me check Craigslist that morning, I haven't a clue, because I was busy that day. But at the top of the list was a 2001 VW New Beetle, for 4900 bucks. I called my dad at an ungodly hour for someone who doesn't rise with small children and ordered him to go get the car for me, since I was too busy to do it myself.
He hung up on me.
I called him back a little bit later (about the iPhone that I absolutely had to have that day as well) and again, ordered him to the dealership with the threatening words of "you have to at least check it out."
His exact words were "Kristin, I'm tired of you right now." And he hung up on me.
Later that day, while I was sitting through an endless (feeling) meeting on Cub Scout day camp at the bottom of a hill on the edge of the boondocks where cell phone reception laughs at your face, a random text came through from my dad.
"Car is bought."
Joy flooded through me, especially when the next text that came through was a photo my dad had snapped of the pale green VW beetle. Joy because the car was bought and it was one of those rare times my dad had listened to me, dare I say followed my orders.
Rachel was in Iowa with her best friend, so I tried to call her when I got to the top of the dern hill (still on the edge of the boondocks but at least at the top of the hill, you have a chance at flipping off the cell towers). Her phone went right to voicemail. Figures...the one time I have HUGE news for her, she doesn't have her phone on.
So I forwarded the photo to her friend's phone. The response was "Rachel says to get it." I texted back "done, it's hers." Followed by a "Really?"
And screaming could be heard from Iowa. I'm pretty sure the cows in Iowa are deaf.
So here we are. A licensed driver. I have a kid who can legally drive herself to school now.
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