The Pony drove us home from The Devil's Playground today. Almost.
I had planned for him to drive home, but I always pick up Burger King for him after the weekly shopping. He eats it in the seat behind me as T-Hoe rolls along. So...we picked up the food (tried to get a black-bunned Whopper for Farmer H, to surprise him, but they were all out) so The Pony could strap on the feedbag, then went to fill up T-Hoe for the coming week. The Pony was still feeding, so I took the lake road and pulled over by the dead-mouse-smelling post office so we could switch.
Actually, I had to take a short detour around the little park by the dead-mouse-smelling post office, as three people had the audacity to check their post office boxes on a Sunday at 12:30. They were probably releasing mice that were knocking on death's door. Anyhoo...I pulled over by that little fountain across from the bed and breakfast, and let The Pony take the wheel. There's a wacky 5-way stop there by the post office. The Pony waited for the little red car on the left to go, but it was waiting for him, so he pulled out.
We tooled along past the post office, took the sharp turn by the Montessori school, waited for about 10 minutes beside the funeral home for a bunch of after-church traffic to pass by, then got out onto the main road where the telephone poles are a mere 1 foot off the roadway. The Pony drove admirably. He took us past the bar where Farmer H has a penchant for "eating burgers" without telling me (The Pony sings like a canary, even if you feed him a burger), past the Casey's General Store that's getting an addition built on, past Farmer H's pharmacy, to the light by the gas station chicken store. After that, The Pony took us under the overpass, remembering to swerve right where the lanes jog out of straightness. Up over the hill, out of town, past the prison, up to 45 mph on the straightaway, and a signal and left turn to get on our county road.
"That red car is still behind me. I bet he's not having a good time."
Probably not. "Don't worry about what's behind you. He's not going anywhere. Just watch the sharp curve, and the next sharp curve. Are you nervous?"
"Not really. The longer I drive on one trip, the easier it gets."
Past the old lady's house who locked herself out that fateful morning when I drove by and waved at her. She WAS waving at me, you know. But I turned around and went back, only to find two other people had already stopped to help. I'm no Pony.
Down over the bridge, past the compound of Fast Drivers--
"Mom. It turned off. That red car was one of the Fast Drivers. I bet that makes you happy."
"Yes it does! They need to slow down. He got what he deserved!"
One little misstep on the gas pedal as we ascended rutty gravel Barn Hill, and then we were in front of our very own property.
"I know I gassed it a little too much back there. But I didn't think I was going to make it over that rock."
"Yeah. If you ever meet a car there, slow way down. You can drive off to the side, but those rocks will put a hole in the bottom of T-Hoe if you go too fast. Hey! There's your dad on the Gator. Honk at him and we'll show him you're driving."
HONK. HONK-HONK. No reaction.
We went down the driveway. "I'll get the garage door. Are you good with that? Can you make the turn and pull in?"
"Yeah."
"Close the mirrors."
The Pony looked on the left handle by the steering wheel. Where the wiper controls are. He's never driven T-Hoe before.
"No. They're on the armrest. No. That adjusts the glass part of the mirror. There. The one below it." T-Hoe was off the driveway and in the yard. "Dad was headed for the house. He's gonna see that."
"Oops! I was looking for the mirror control."
"That's why you NEVER look down while you're driving. Especially at a phone. Pull off and park."
"I know. I turn my phone completely off while I'm driving."
The Pony has a good head on his shoulders. I'd like to keep it that way.
3 comments:
It sounds like The Pony cleared that hurdle with room to spare!
When the twins were almost 15 we lived in the city, but there was an alley behind the houses on our street. I would let one of them drive the car down the alley and turn into our dive and park. On one such occasion, Jill was behind the wheel and as we pulled in, He Who was washing the van, watching. I instructed her to park next to her dad's jeep, but not to hit it. Don't know why I said that ...... but she hit the jeep. She is still not the best driver in the family.
Sioux,
He's not quite medal material yet.
********
Kathy,
That is not exactly easing my mind...
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