Just when I thought my daughter was finally getting the hang of this driving thing she proves me wrong. In the last couple of days, she has cut off a minimum of two cars, almost backed into a truck, and spilled a soda all over me. Yet she doesn't understand why I continue to correct her. This from the same child who was sucking the bubbles off her orange juice with a straw this morning. Thankfully, her car is almost ready. I wasn't going to let her drive the car until her birthday in December. I think I have changed my mind.
Reason #1. If she is going damage a vehicle, I would rather it be HER car that is paid for.
Reason #2. Because I know her car is paid for, maybe I can relax a little when we are driving.
Reason #3. My car is NOT paid for.
Reason #4. I think her car gets better gas mileage than mine.
Reason #5. Why should we put more wear and tear on my car? Let's put wear and tear on her vehicle, which IS PAID FOR.
Reason #6. If we hit someone in her older car, which is not as nice as mine, maybe we won't get sued.
Reason #7. Her car is paid for.
Sissy recently asked me a very explosive question. Once again, my parenting handbook failed me. She asked me if someone is gay are they going to hell? We are a Christian family and the Bible is very clear on this issue. I answered her question to the best of my abilities. One of the things I told her is that none of us here on Earth gets to decide who is going to hell. I won't elaborate on the rest of what I shared with her. I really don't care to discuss it in my blog. It just amazes me that just when I think I may have this parenting thing licked, some new challenge comes my way.
The DQ has asked me some very serious questions throughout the years. Once she asked me if I was going to die. I told her that I I would die someday. She began to cry. As I was trying to console her, she wailed, "But who will do my lllaaauuunnddddrryy?!!!!"
She asked me a few days ago why I bought rotten slimy, tomatoes at the store. I should have told her I bought them because they were on sale. Or that I prefer slimy, rotten tomatoes as opposed to fresh, juicy, ripe tomatoes.
She asked me at Christmas one year, "Why did Paulette and Kevin only buy me one present instead of a whole bunch?". She asked me this right in front of them. (They are friends of ours from NC.)
Maybe someday I will have all the answers, but I don't think so. I think the best thing to do is PRETEND like I have all the answers. After all, a mother's wisdom should never be questioned.