I let Hayden, my 14 year old, drive around the gravel road by the country house. He sat tall and proud. He was focused. He handled the minivan around the sharp turn as elegantly as if he’d been driving race cars his whole life. Which in a way he has — all that time in video arcades and gaming devices prepared him well for the finer motor skills necessary to
This was the 4th of July sunset over the Hudson River from the Amtrak train coming back from the country.
motor the family van.
He can’t wait to drive.
On the 5-hour drive to the country, from the backseat, my son asked, “Is it fun to drive?”
I had to think about it. Accelerating is nice. Passing people is sweet. Feeling the breeze from the wide open window is cool. Blaring music is happening.
“Yes, it is,” I said. “Driving’s fun.”
The best part of driving is that you feel independent. While my tall son may believe he’s ready to drive today, the quarter mile loop by the Big House is as far as he will go. He may be ready but I’m not.
