Allow me to take you back in time two weeks to my daughter’s and my lovely visit, as they all are, to the DMV. (In case you’re new here, I get a little sarcasticy. I also make up words.)
Daughter’s driving test appointment was at 1:00. We got there around 12:30 and were able to check in right away, but there was a long line of testers ahead of us. We waited on the floor inside for quite a while. Finally, we joined a long line of cars waiting outside. It was 85 degrees, so we kept the van running with the A/C on for who knows how long? An hour? Time has no meaning in those situations.
Also with us was my 8-year-old son, missing school because he hadn’t been feeling well. Like all boys his age, he was quite placid, sitting patiently in the backseat, tapping his knees, humming pleasantly. (Sarcasticy again.)
I turned on the radio to try to calm him. He used the opportunity to “sing along” by saying, “I’m booooreeeeddd” repeatedly in time to the tune. Great stuff! (Yep. You’re getting it now. Sarcasm.)
Finally, it was Daughter’s turn for the drive test with “David,” if that’s even his REAL NAME, so Son and I “relaxed” on an outdoor bench in the shade.
Another mom whose daughter was in line behind us eventually joined us.
“This is nerve-wracking, isn’t it?” I said to her.
“Yes, and this is my daughter’s second try.”
“Oh gosh. I hope she passes,” I said, meanwhile, thinking smugly that SURELY my daughter will pass on the FIRST try.
So, Little Man is one month old today. That leaves two months of the so-called “fourth trimester.”
Writing and Martial Arts 