Day 15: More Dents than a Golf Ball

It's interesting to me that the quiets spot in my house is my car. Ever since my children were little when it was sleep time during afternoon nap time I would tuck them into bed in the house and go and sit out in the car for respite. It is still a habit now that they are teenagers. After I have pick them up from school I stay in the car just for a few extra minutes. I don't know if it's because during winter it is always that nice warm toastie spot that, like a cat curled up on the end of your bed, I feel so content that I never want to leave, or the silence that leaves a humming sound in my ears as I sit and meditate the day. 

Alas however these days the car is not always my sanctuary. Over the past three years because my husband can't see, I have had to teach teenage girls to drive. Yes this has been one of the worst parts of being married to a blind man...why did I not think of that 21 years ago before deciding to have children...you could say I was blinded by the future, without seeing the trauma that lie ahead. 

Being the control freak that I am,(not controlling but liking to take control over that which I have influence) driving as I have said in the past is something I am comfortable doing. Having to relinquish that task to a teen is not for the faint hearted. As everyone who has ever taught a sarcastic teenager knows it is purely not, I repeat, not a joyous occasion. What...I have to be the passenger for 100 hours? Are you kidding me...now that wasn't in the rule book 26 years ago when I got my licence...I've been gypped I swear! That's a total of 400 hours with a teen at the wheel. 

We once had a delivery driver working for us that we simply had to let go, as he almost took out a power pole dragging the trailer behind him. I was sad for him when we relinquished this young man of his driving duties,  as I am they type of person who wants to see others succeed. Having to explain to him that Dean the blindman did not feel confident as a passenger while he was driving, this young man took it badly. It wasn't until I offered to blind fold him and have one of my teenage daughters drive him around did this young man except that having confidence in a driver when you can't see is very important.  After all, if you are blind and can't take control of the car you want to be bloody sure that the person who is driving is an amazing chauffeur...that's why he has kept me so long! Plus I'm cheap!

But with teenage girls it's a whole different story. "Mum you have to let me drive...Mum it's my turn to drive ...Mum when can I drive?" What is my response...of course, I let them but with much trepidation. I am happy to say that I have survived 2 of my girls getting their licence. With both daughters I had some brave male friends sit next to them and help me out teaching them the basics, the oldest daughter taking out one friends  front wall of his house in his car, Oops! The second volunteer managed to escape unharmed, luckily. For their service I will be forever grateful. They also had ten hours of paid professional driving lessons.

 It's not the learner plates that scare me the most...I have learnt to be afraid, yes very afraid of the Provisional plated driver that follows the learner. Girls with "P" plates have had so many incidents in my much loved cars. There have been occasions where a mysterious dent has arrived, in the said vehicle, when a "p" plater arrives home after work. In fact it hasn't been the odd dent...it has been many dents, then there was the time when a boyfriend "p" plater was given the task of diving, 3 panels right down one side of the car were taken out. My poor poor ute. It looked as though it had been swept up in a tornado and dumped back on the ground. Oh, and the excuses we would hear...not just once but every time there was a plausible reason..."there was a tree stump that I couldn't see and I backed into it", oh "that car was not parked there when I drove in, so how did it get there when I backed out", "I have no idea","a kangaroo just hopped out in front of me"...funny I've been driving for 25 years and not once hit a roo! That ute got the name of the sacrificial anode. 
It was the "I have no idea excuses"  that particularly sadden us. In the end I have had to learn not to love a car, just see it as a means to transport us, not as a status piece. 

After five years of driving a beat up Holden ute we sold our beast. My girls only have a licence for Automatic cars, I chose a ute and made susure it was manual so the could not beat this one up. Thinking I have conquered the teenage dings..as a twist to my fete, two weeks after getting the new mode of transport I leave it in a paid parking spot whilst helping my oldest daughter at her art show in the city only to return and find a massive ding in the hood! Are you kidding!!! I'm almost accepting that I need to love the dents as they tell a story, I just wish I knew exactly what each story was!

The four girls driving us up the wall