Speed 16

Sweet 16 just doesn't seem right for Michael...

I'm writing this Wednesday evening as Sean and Michael are getting together all the paperwork Michael and I will need in order for Michael to get his driver’s license Thursday morning. The Secretary of State’s office opens at 9 am; Michael and I are planning to leave our house at 8:30 in the hopes of being first in line. Michael mentioned he wanted to drive home alone after getting his license. I reminded him I had to drive with him to the get his license and that I didn’t intend to tow the Fiero behind us in order to facilitate his first solo drive.

Although if I could, I probably would.

As I’ve written about ad nauseam, Michael has dreamed of this day for as long as he can remember. And we’re all pretty excited for him.

As happy as I am for him, however, I am not at all excited to be the mother of a 16 year old. I swear I am not old enough. Swear. Pinky swear. Okay, not pinky swear. Seems like it was just yesterday I got my license and for the first time drove off in Mom’s station wagon, relishing the freedom that little square of paper brought me. Man, that was a great feeling.  (And yet I am officially old because I just used the classic old person line, "It seems like just yesterday...")

So in the morning we’re off to show the government worker that yes, Michael completed Michigan’s required Segments One and Two driving classes and took the road test. We have his original birth certificate and Social Security card. We also have a bank statement and a W2 to prove he is, in fact, a resident of the great state of Michigan. With all these bits of paper in hand, Lord willing, tomorrow morning Michael will be a licensed driver.

And I, I imagine, will truly understand Paul's admonition to, "Pray without ceasing."

Michael, his faithful passenger Amy, and his first set of wheels. 

He drove it so much he wore out two batteries.