There's A Signpost Up Ahead...

Fear. That about describes it. Fear is a good word. Or maybe apprehension is a bit better. Then again terror might just be the best of all. At any rate, the experienced effect underquestion is like soaking yourself in gasoline and then standing there, holding a disposable lighter, and thinking about the sensation to come. Not a pretty picture.

Such is the emotional landscape I find myself surveying. Why, you ask? Because at this moment a young man stands before me bearing the bane of parents everywhere...his drivers permit. Our firstborn, our little man, the eldest of our brood wants to drive my car, and he has the blessing of the state of Georgia to do it. I don't think my heart, lungs, brain, or bowels can take this. How can he possibly be old enough to drive? Just yesterday we were bathing him in the kitchen sink! I am becoming convinced (and I'm mere moments into this thing) that teen driving is the primary cause of mid-life crisis. My hair is greying, my eyes are bagging, and my stomach is on the verge of purging at the thought of it all.

Woe unto me that I was ever born for such a day as this. Woe be unto my pocket book whence I must upgrade my auto insurance. Woe for I am undone at the thought of the first fruits of my loins hurling himself and others hither and yon at speeds approaching 15 MPH!

And so we embark on the next phase of parenting and childing. Next stop, girlfriends!