I looked at the text and sighed deeply. Alex, my youngest child, passed his driver’s license test yesterday.
“Woohoo!” I texted back.
It was another milestone in his life, and it was an important one. Driving equals freedom. He was on his way, moving at 70 miles per hour. He can’t wait to go. One more year of high school, and then he’ll be in college. His “real” life will start.
His milestone is also my milestone. What will I do now that I don’t have to pick him up from band practice anymore? That 5:30 to 6:00 PM slot is now mine to do with as I please. (I suppose I could cook dinner, but that’s kind of a drastic change for me.)
He’ll be able to drive himself and his girlfriend to the homecoming dance next weekend, thus avoiding the awkward and embarrassing “my mom’s driving us to the dance” silence that accompanies such a trip. Pretty sure I won’t miss that.
Last night he drank the last of the milk, and then got into the car, drove to Publix, and bought another gallon. I now have my own personal delivery man, who salivates at the opportunity to run my errands at the post office, the dry cleaner, the drug store. From past experience, I know it’ll be quite some time before he tires of doing my chores. It’s definitely a plus for me.
So why the heartfelt sigh when I learned that he passed his driving test? Heck if I can remember.
These are actual pictures of my son Alex. He's hiding in our clothes hamper in the first photo. That one was taken a few years ago. lol
He's standing with his girlfriend Katy in the second photo, ready for last year's homecoming dance. I can't wait to see them this year. I bet they'll be even more beautiful!