Have you ever considered how terrifying interstates are?
I mean, think about it. Soft, fragile human bodies seated in little metal rockets on wheels only feet apart as they weave back and forth across the lanes with nothing separating them but a thin sheet of glass and a 5-inch thick door panel, flying at speeds of almost (and sometimes in excess of) 100 miles per hour where the slightest miscalculation can mean horrific, maiming injuries, life-altering brain trauma or instantaneous death? That’s occurred to you, right?
Or maybe it’s just me.
And on, you know, a completely unrelated note, did I mention that Kristen turns 16 next week, and today she drove us on the interstate to Montgomery and back? I don’t think I ever really realized how narrow the lanes are on I85 through Montgomery, or how many people don’t have both tail lights in proper operational condition or how few people signal when changing lanes or how ridiculously, insanely unsafe 70 mph really is. It’s really not natural that soft little human bodies travel at that speed, y’all.
And there are nine more days until she’s out there in a car on her own.
But really it’s not her driving that has me worried. I think she’s doing just fine, in that new driver way, and she’s got a good head on her shoulders. It’s the fact that I’m about to have to let go in the biggest way yet.
I knew this kind of thing would be scary, in that theoretical kind of way. But uh…nobody really told me about this crap. Specifically I don’t remember anyone pulling me aside as I was holding her when she was still tiny enough and willing enough to be held and saying,”You know, Ang, at some point you’re going to be expected put this girl in a car and watch her pull away from the house and know that she’s just out there, all on her own in a little metal rocket on a road full of other metal rockets and you will be expected to stay behind and let her and it will feel like the most unnatural thing you’ve ever done after spending 16 years taking care of her and keeping tabs on her and keeping her safe and alive. And no, running after her bumper like a frantic, senseless Collie is not really acceptable behavior. It’s most definitely frowned upon and she will likely find it upsetting and embarrassing…but it will definitely occur to you and you will have to fight the urge anyway.”
Or maybe somebody did and I just didn’t hear them.
Nine more days. More than enough time to find out who in our government I need to write to get the interstate speed limits brought down to a much more safe and reasonable speed of, say, 45mph, right? Or does that still seem a little high to you?