‘Why do you always grip the dashboard like that when I am driving?’
It’s the bleary-eyed 5am run to rowing practice and I have just relented to the eager ‘Can I drive?’ When your teenager takes a reluctant ‘I guess’ as full-throated approval, you still want to show grace. Especially when there are many more mandated hours of supervision en route to a probationary licence.
Instead of the dashboard, I grip my ribs and sit stiff with attention, mute of tongue.
Just then, a huge truck in the next lane honks unnecessarily but I feel the universe has spoken for me.
When considering how many children to have, I forgot to take stock of how much driving there would be to do and teach. Only up to the middle child, many more nerves remain to be jangled.
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