Riding Shotgun

The time has come. That my wife and I ride in the passenger seat and instruct our son on the challenge of merging, watching cross traffic and deciding who has the right-of-way.

We've been through it once already. It was mostly successful. At least after "Which one is the gas pedal?"  Cynthia has become a very reliable driver!

Hey! Watch the road!

Now it's Aaron's turn. He's 15 and it takes a little arm twisting to get him behind the wheel to practice! I can still remember the time when he was too young to be in the front seat. But we had rented a truck to get the materials to build a sandbox. He had to sit in the front. Maybe he was four or five years old. As we were cruising down the street, he was loving being in the front. He looked up at me and said, seriously, "Dad. Can I drive?"

Can you blame him? He could see out the front windshield. He was only inches away from the steering wheel. How hard can it be? If it were the old days, or we lived in a real rural area, or had some farmland to ride around on, maybe he would have made his behind-the-wheel debut that day. But, no, I had to disappoint him. (Back to Hot Wheels when he got home.)

The sandbox still sits in the backyard. It hasn't gotten much use in many years. And he is quickly growing up! I look at pictures of just a couple of years ago, and can't believe it's the same kid. Can I still call him a kid? He's almost taller than I am. I wonder what kind of vehicle he'll be driving in a few years?

That's the two of us waaaay in the background at the Star Wars exhibit at the Science Museum a number of years ago. I'm in the drivers seat. (Is there a drivers seat in a land speeder?) But then there was this photo from last summer. He's starting to take the wheel(or handle bars).