<p>Mommusic, Happy Hour starts at 10 a.m. for you today and for as long as it takes to get through teen driving purgatory. Good luck!! :eek: Sluggson took to it like a duck to water, but sluggGirl was another story. Just turning the corner was an adventure in terror. The right front wheel was either hanging from the edge of where the asphalt met the top of a 3-foot deep culvert, or we were heading directly into parked cars on the side of the road. The script went something like this...</p>
<p>We are sitting in our Explorer at a busy intersection, and the left-hand turn signal turns green. SluggGirl hits the accelerator at a blazing 2 mph and proceeds straight into the intersection. So far so good, despite the fact that the driver behind us is now up our butt and gunning his engine. This is typical of Bay Area driving, especially in the "Crick" (nickname of our town) where drivers have been known to get out of their cars and beat old people with Burberry umbrellas if they are late getting to Crate & Barrel. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, we are still proceeding into the intersection to complete the left turn. The light turns yellow, and our back tires have just passed the crosswalk line. </p>
<p>sluggmom: "Honey, you may want to give it a little more speed just so we can make the light before it turns red."</p>
<p>I'm now looking out of the passenger window at cars massing at the intersection coming off of the freeway ramp. They are stacking up like thoroughbred horses lining up at the gate, and I can see the whites of their eyes as their eyeballs flit back and forth in anticipation of the green light.</p>
<p>sluggGirl: "Maw-homm! Don't RUSH me! Whad'ya want me to do, speed through this intersection?!!"</p>
<p>Her foot jams the accelerator, and we are launched into hyperspeed hurtling toward several vehicles parked on the street in front of Pier One.</p>
<p>sluggMom (now screaming): "TURN!! For the love of God, turn the #@$!ing car, NOW!!"</p>
<p>My face is now buried in the pits of my elbows, and I've instinctively tried to assume the airplane crash position, but I'm choking to death on the shoulder strap, instead. A weird calm comes over me, and I know that sweet relief will come soon. I'm either going to die in an inferno, or I'm going to pass out from being choked to death by the shoulder strap, OR she'll make the turn. Everything is moving in slow motion, and I think of happier times before I got into a car with my 16-year old...</p>
<p>The passenger side of the Explorer glides past three cars, barely missing each one. The owner of the little white Nissan will never know how close she came to being T-boned by an insane teen driver with her now equally insane mother strapped helplessly beside her in the front seat. I feel like I'm on the Titanic, and we've just missed ramming the Hindenburg. </p>
<p>We make our way home down a busy, but straight road. I am grateful for every red light, and every completed right turn is a gift from the big kahuna in the sky. She pulls into the driveway, and I feel like I've just come back from the fifth dimension. The spacetime continuum is out of whack because we were out driving for 30 minutes, but it seems like years have passed. I stomp into the house, and sluggdad is sitting at the kitchen table calmly reading the paper.</p>
<p>sluggdad: "Have fun?"</p>
<p>sluggmom: "#@!$% YOU! That is the LAST driving lesson I am ever giving to anyone. Your turn next time." :D</p>