Hold on to your feathers!

Little One started driving lessons yesterday. She turns 19 in November (read about her entrance into adulthood here!), and we've figured it's about time she starts paying her dues and earning her keep in this family. I've been chauffeuring her around for the past six years (I was a late bloomer and didn't get my license till I turned 20), and I'm sick of always having to be the one responsible for the late-night ice cream runs. So, Little One, good luck and don't let the jerks honking their horns at you while you restart the manual car you've managed to stall while changing gears get you down. Until then, I'll be the one dodging behind parked cars when I see you inch by at 14 miles an hour with your clammy hands clenching the steering wheel in a death grip.