The Time Monte Got Stuck on a Chain Link Fence at a Field Hockey Game

McDaniel is a coaching a JV high school field hockey team.

She's never played. 

And knew very little about the game 

walking in.

Her team had a game just 30 minutes away from us so we drove to watch it Saturday.

It was an over 2-hour drive on the bus for her and her team so I decided to make each of them snacks bags for after the game and on the way home.

Snacks for 20 ended up filling a few leftover Amazon boxes.

The set up on this football field/track was bizarre and included lots of locked chain link fences.

We drove to where the bus was parked right by the track to see if we could get to the team on the other side from there.

Nope.

Monte hopped the fence and we handed him the boxes.

On the way back over, he struggled.

McDaniel couldn't watch and walked away towards the car.

I looked back to find Monte stuck in a straddle position over the fence.

I quickly joined McDaniel by the car.

We laughed.

After awhile, Monte marched towards us with a grumpy face.

"I'm hurt" he said.

Then he turned around to reveal an enormous rip in the hind end of his jeans.

Is this inappropriate?

The entire pocket was flapping in the wind 

revealing the color of his underwear.

Which wasn't white.

I can't remember if I fell down or leaned over or just blacked out from laughing.

Monte was mad.

His jeans were new

 and he really liked them 

and he just wanted McDaniel 

and I to see if he was bleeding.

McDaniel muttered something about refusing to look at her father's behind in a high school parking lot.

It was all up to me.

Reassuringly, I saw no blood and then told Monte to take off his jacket, tie it around his waist so we could walk all the way around the stadium and track to deliver the snacks he had earlier set by the fence.

Can you hear me laughing?

We got to visit with McDaniel during the varsity game and sat off by ourselves while her team enjoyed the snacks.

Three girls came over and asked McDaniel permission to go to the bus to get a blanket.

We watched as they walked around the track, forgetting to warn them that the gate was locked.

We saw one of the girls jump the fence. 

McDaniel worried since she had concussion.

We watched intently as the girl tried unsuccessfully to get back over the fence--almost exactly where Monte had torn the back end of his pants.

All of a sudden, an older gentleman emerged from the bus (one of those big charter ones) and helped the girl with ease right on over the fence.

Monte exclaimed,

"The bus driver was in the bus the entire time?! 

He could've helped me?? 

Why didn't he offer to help me?!"

I envisioned the bus driver trying to take a little nap when the ruckus of shaking chain link caused him to open his eyes to see Monte stuck in a straddle on top of the fence. 

I'm sure he got caught up in wanting to see how this situation was going to play out. He might have even recorded it just to make sure the bus drivers back at home believed it really happened.

The whole thing was funny all over again.

Until we got home and Monte made me check 

for a "flesh wound" 

in the middle of the kitchen.

That Time I Wondered if I Was Allergic to Life

I have been sick since Christmas morning.

I had one decent week last week where I felt good enough to clean out closets and drawers.

Saturday morning the sickness returned. Sunday morning, I decided to go to the Minute Clinic inside CVS to get some meds.

I was diagnosed with Acute Sinusitis which I decided was way too adorable of a name for how bad I felt.

Plague seemed more appropriate.

I was given a strong dose of penicillin and sent on my way.

I came home and ate a bowl of Life cereal and took my first pill.

I was talking to Monte 

when my chest started to itch.

I was wearing a Waffle House sweatshirt from my daughter's closet and I wondered if there was something in the dye that was irritating my skin.

I took it off, right there in the middle of the kitchen.

I had a tank top underneath.

Monte commented on all the welts all over my chest, shoulders and back.

I ran to the mirror and noticed my face looked sunburned.

I pondered,

"I wonder if I'm allergic to Life?"

Meaning the cereal. 

The cereal I just ate.

Monte thought I was being all "tragic" and meant life in general.

He's a girl dad. 

That reaction came from 

YEARS of solid experience.

But this was no fake drama. 

Something bad was happening.

Monte drove me back to the Minute Clinic.

There is a touch screen computer you sign in with.

I tried, but by this time my hands were two red swollen mitts of meat.

Not so good on the touch screen.

Monte knocked on the doctor's door.

She took one look at me and dragged me by the arm inside and told Monte to wait outside.

She poured me a generous cup of Benadryl and inspected my welts.

She said she needed to call someone.

For the first time, 

I noticed just how young she was.

She hung up the phone and gave me a blood test to determine if I had mono.

I guess mono can sometimes cause a reaction to penicillin.

We had to wait five full minutes for the test results.

To kill time, 

I watched my hands and wrists 

swell even bigger.

She kept asking if my throat or tongue felt funny and if I could breathe.

I told her no, 

I could not breathe, 

which is why I came in.

I also told her I was allergic to grapes and used to the feeling of my throat swelling.

Growing up, I called that feeling,  "Communion Sunday".

She asked if I had an epi-pen.

I told her no, it was the 70s. My mom just gave me a Velamint and a drink of water.

She blinked a lot at me.

Especially after I asked her where the water from the Neti pot went 

when it didn't come out the other side of my nostril like it was supposed to? 

Did it get absorbed into my sinuses because they were FULL UP?!

It was determined I did not have mono.

She told me I would start feeling pretty sleepy soon from the Benadryl.

She ordered up a new antibiotic for me and some prednisone for my hives.

She told me that even after a lifetime of taking it with no problem,  I would now have to tell doctors I was allergic to penicillin. 

I got up to put on my coat and got super dizzy and the room started to spin and I got all sweaty and shaky and sat down quickly. 

Before I knew what was going on, I had an ice pack on the back of my neck 

and a blue plastic sock thing in front of my face that she told me I could puke in if needed.

I thought there was NO WAY 

that plastic sock was going to do it for me. 

And I've thrown up in those little bags on an airplane. 

I should know.

As I was bent over the blue sock, she got Monte and I overheard talk about calling 911.

For whatever reason I got real concerned about being taken to the ER in a Waffle House sweatshirt.

I overheard Monte saying not to call the squad and he'd take me to the emergency room.

I thought, 

"For the love of Pete, don't cheap out on me now!" 

The next thing I remember, my pants were down and the doctor was spearing my thigh with an epi-pen and holding it down HARD. 

I'm not sure how long I was in that chair, but I slowly started to feel better.

She told me that I would be shaky for awhile from the adrenaline of the shot which was exactly the opposite of the feeling the Benadryl was causing.

My body was at war with itself.

At one point, I overheard the doctor tell Monte 

she had not given very many epi-pen shots.

Monte helped me to the car and went back for the new meds.

I came home and told my daughter and her friend about the visit.

It didn't seem possible that so much could escalate so quickly.

Walking up the stairs to my bedroom with a recently stabbed leg was interesting and involved some dragging. 

It took a while for the war in my body to settle down so that I could sleep.

I had a dream that night that I was being pulled into a dark tunnel. 

I resisted at first but finally gave in because I was so exhausted and it was so relaxing to just let go.

I woke up and told Monte I thought it was a death dream 

and I gave into death!

So, in conclusion, no more penicillin for me and I can now cross off my bucket list getting pantsed in a CVS Minute Clinic.

The End.

Tis the Halloween Season

Halloween is our favorite. 

We dress up as a family every year. 

We were the characters from Grease last year.

It's a whole thing we're known for.

But we really haven't been big on decorating for Halloween. 

We aren't into the scary scene of the holiday.

We have new neighbors with two little boys that come over and make Monte and I want to be better at all the fun things, including decorating for Halloween.

Monte has ALWAYS wanted inflatables for our yard for Christmas.

Not anything subtle, 

if an inflatable could be subtle.

No, Monte wants the Santa riding a motorcycle inflatable. 

Does Santa have tattoos?

Or Santa hanging out of the door of an Airstream inflatable.

Neither have ever fit into my outdoor decoration plan for the Christmas holiday.

The last few years, we've noticed a big decline in trick or treaters at our house.

We are close to the end of our street and I think kids have been turning around instead of walking all the way down to our end.

Monte suggested we needed something 

big, 

in the yard, 

a visual perhaps, 

to get the kids excited to keep on walking.

An inflatable.

I agreed only if I got to pick it out.

It's the only one that made sense.

Especially sense I found Monte looking at this one on display at a store months ago.

I can't even.
Too many questions.

We've been waiting forever to put up the dinosaur and decided this weekend was the time.

My parents were in town so my dad helped Monte.

He's 7 feet tall and lights up at night.

Our neighbors told their kids Monte is inside the inflatable.

I also decided to paint a few boards to decorate the front of the house.

I picked up precut four foot boards from Lowe's and painted them black.

I printed out one letter per page and used an exact knife to cut them out.

I thought I would stencil the letters but I didn't use card stock and thought the computer paper would let the paint bleed. I just traced the letters I cut out with a gel pen and then painted them white.

I propped the boards up on either side of my front door.

I also decided to make a new wreath out of eyeballs that I ordered from Amazon.

Note:  the eyeballs came with four Halloween plastic cups. 

I think I unknowingly ordered a spooky beer pong set.

I hot glued the eyeballs to a grapevine wreath I already had.

Yes, we still have the ancient door with the three windows.

It's been a big hit.

We decided to carve our pumpkins Friday night since the squirrels had already started.

Ellie decided to paint hers and one for McDaniel who is away at college.

She used glow in the dark paint for the BOO.
 I keep forgetting to look to see it glowing at night.

It's candy corn!

Monte went with the Kit Kat commercial carving design. You know, the whole "I'm sorry for what I did to your face" one.

Monte's

Kit Kat's.

I attempted to carve a T-Rex head and was really sorry for what I did to his face until I saw it lit up.

Then I wasn't sorry at all.

We had a bit of wind last night and Ellie and I decided to watch the inflatable since Monte was running an errand.  When we watched him do the splits, we decided it would be a good idea for him to spend the night in the garage so he wouldn't end up blowing all over the neighborhood looking like a Macy's Day Parade float.

On top of being the house with the inflatable, Monte also insisted on buying full size candy bars to hand out this year.

It's on, Halloween! We are ready!!

I'll Miss You, Summer and Other Random Things

I really do love summer.

I like hot days and warm nights that don't require wearing jackets.

I live in a part of the country where jackets are required THE MAJORITY of the year,

so I do enjoy the brief season we can shed them.

And I will NEVER understand the people 

who spend that brief season going places 

that require those jackets. 

Do some people just really love jackets?

Anyhoo…

School started yesterday and even though it is still the middle of August, it feels like summer is over.

I'm giving you the side-eye all things pumpkin flavored.

I don't get it

OR

 the cold-shoulder shirt trend.

I really want my Bitmoji's dress.

But, I digress…

I want to talk about other random things.

I had a Charlie Horse the other night.

It was intense.

Monte gets them all the time and pops out of bed and hobbles and dances all around the room groaning.

I've learned to sleep right through most of them.

But I never get them.

I didn't get out of bed with my Charlie Horse because I do believe I was briefly paralyzed.

It was so painful that I am still sore, days later.

Monte managed to sleep right through it.

I was telling someone about the Charlie Horse and was asked what I thought brought it on.

I thought about it…

We had friends over for dinner that night and I was cleaning and prepping food and on my feet a lot.

Could standing, 

just being upright,

cause a Charlie Horse?!

Nothing says, "You are old" like your body rejecting being in a position other than sitting or lying down.

Later that day I took the girls to get stuff for school and we saw a dead animal on the road.

I thought it was a beaver.

McDaniel said it was just a bloated squirrel.

Ellie didn't care enough to weigh in.

I circled back so we could investigate further.

Because why in the world would a beaver be so close to our house and so far from the river?

It was a ground hog.

It reminded me of a time we were driving to see my parents years ago and we were in Lawrenceburg, Indiana by this big grassy embankment by the river and a groundhog was running on the steep embankment.

Like, hauling it, running.

Monte decided to see how fast he was going as compared to our car speed and it took some acceleration to catch the furry fast guy.

Who knew ground hogs could run like lightning 

on those short little legs?

Well, not the one by my house. 

RIP.

On the same errand trip, I realized I had not eaten lunch.

It was mid-afternoon at this point and I do not do well without three meals a day.

We saw this walking into Target.

Trash can jelly beans!!

Jelly beans are one of my favorite things!

I was weak in my flesh.

My girls had to steer me away from them 

after I said they didn't look "that dirty."

Over the weekend, Monte and I were sitting outside listening to music, contemplating what to make for dinner.

On the table next to where I was sitting, I saw this little guy.

For a fuzzy guy, the red horns and red face/eyes/mouth, didn't leave me with a fuzzy feeling.

He kept doing fast laps around the edge of the table and every now and then he stretched out 

like he was going to jump off or whisper something to me.

No doubt it was a message about how he planned 

to kill me in my sleep later that night.

I went to adjust the volume of the music and the devil dragon caterpillar made me jump.

He was FAST!

Not Lawrenceburg ground hog fast, 

but faster than well, 

the one by our house. 

RIP.

One night recently, the girls had other plans and Monte and I were on our own for dinner.

I didn't feel like cooking or sitting in a restaurant, so we went to Whole Foods to grab something to go.

Monte was perusing the hot bar while I was looking at the salad bar.

He walked up to me and said something like,

"I knew it. Cods are jerks."

Then he walked me over to this sign.

You know, with a name like COD, I believe they probably are jerks.

We did not partake of it to see if it was delicious.

To celebrate Ellie's first day of school, I took her and a friend to dinner.

They were discussing their classes and teachers when Ellie told me her Environmental Science teacher said the methane gas from cow farts was damaging the ozone so farmers were making cows fart into balloons to power cars "and stuff."

I had just taken a big bite of food when she dropped this nugget of funny on me.

I almost did a lot of things (like choke and wet my pants) but I did manage to laugh until I cried.

I had so many questions.

And SO. MANY. 

images in my head.

It wasn't until after we did a little post dinner school supply shopping that I was able to do some research.

Turns out, they are more of a balloon backpack attached to the stomach than what I had imagined.

I think this is weird for him too.

This is what was swirling around in my head.

Ellie did say one of the kids in her class asked the teacher if any of the cows ever flew away.

Per the cartoon above,

yes.

Maybe it goes without saying, that I was a bit punchy after almost choking and wetting my pants yet still crying actual tears from laughing in a public place.

So when this picture popped up on my Instagram feed, I was weak.

Laura Dern! Oh my word.

I asked a few girlfriends if it was wrong that I wanted Nigel to let me do this to him.

The most he's allowed is a Velcro bow tie attached to his collar.

How much different is Laura Derning your dog from strapping inflatable backpacks to your cow?

Talk that one through amongst yourselves. 

I have to go wake up Nigel.

Just Another Rat Story

Happy Summer!

Our summer started with Monte and I sitting on the back patio after dinner chatting while a rat ran across our yard.

This rat looked like something the makers of Jurassic World 

concocted in a lab to be "scarier" than the plain old average rat.

It was a Ratasaurus.

Seeing it set me off.

I'd already NOT planted various tomatoes in my garden like I usually do so as not to feed any lingering rats after the February rats we found dead in the dryer vent.

I only planted basil and cilantro.

Do rats like herbs??

Monte bought big traps and set them out in various places around the yard.

One was dramatically moved the next day but there was no rat in it.

We have not seen any rats since.

We felt like a message had been sent:  no food, lots of traps, get out.

The rats moved on.

I was digging in the back of our garage today looking for something.

I smelled something that I thought might be on the bottom of my shoe.

I checked. It wasn't.

I kept moving stuff in my search, when the stench got stronger.

I actually said out loud to no one,

"Ugh. It smells like death!"

I was right.

I spotted a dead rat.

It was big.

Ratasaurus big.

Or it had been big.

It was so dead that it wasn't three dimensional anymore.

I dropped what I was holding and ran inside to call Monte.

When he got home he shoveled up the dead rat carcass, made sure I captured just how dead and stiff it was and tossed it into the field by our house.

I watched as Monte walked to the field. I thought he'd do a little low toss into the base of the corn growing in the field.

Nope.

He swung the shovel up high over his head and the stiff rat sailed far and deep and stiff into the corn.

I do hope this is the last of my rat stories.

Savage Squirrels

I was weeding the side yard yesterday when I heard a lot of squeaking and squawking.

We have lots of birds and squirrels (and sometimes rats) so I didn't think too much of it.

Monte was spraying the weeds an hour or so later and came in to tell me he thought there was an animal dying in the bushes.

Ellie and I walked outside and we noticed there were no less than 6,000 squirrels around on the electrical wires, telephone poles, tree branches and trunk, the driveway and even in the neighbor's yard across the street.

Whatever was in that bush was of great interest to those squirrels.

Immediately, I assumed it was a hurt squirrel.

Monte got a rake and decided to "rake the bush" to see what would happen.

I'll tell you what happened.

6,000 squirrels all stopped what they were doing to stare at Monte.

Ellie said something like,

"What is happening with all these squirrels?!"

It was eerie.

Two small birds flew out of the bush and all the squirrels fled the scene all at once except for a few.

One squirrel was on the electrical line that runs above our side yard and he was giving Monte such a mean stink eye that it was uncomfortable.

Another was standing upside down on the tree trunk right next to Monte.

He looked enormous for a squirrel.

And I swear he never blinked.

We all came inside and wondered why the squirrels were so fixated on tiny birds in a bush. 

Isn't there a saying about that?

Monte did some research and found out squirrels EAT birds.

EAT THEM!!

What?!

I thought they were vegetarians

or whatever you call something 

that just eats nuts.

We think the squirrels must've knocked over a nest and the baby birds were in the bush trying to call out for momma and daddy for help but they were probably already EATEN by the savage squirrel gang in my yard!!

Hours later we were still bringing it up in an effort to process the carnage.

We've watched the squirrels in our yard for years digging up our grass to hide a nut only to dig it up a few days later to hide it somewhere else.

I always thought they were adorably simple.

Squirrels once ate every nut shell from a wreath I made for the front door--glue and all.

Maybe even a little dense.

I had NO. IDEA. of what they were capable of!

Later that night we watched the end of Jurassic World that was on television.

Now, you EXPECT a raptor to eat a guy.

Meat eater.

I learned that about their nature 

when studying them.

And watching all the Jurassic movies.

I had a dream last night something bit off my hand.

I assumed it was a raptor until now…

Toddler Tired

In the midst of hosting family from out of town,

we decided to host whoever wanted to come over at 5:00 am 

to watch the Royal Wedding Saturday morning.

Ellie's sweet Young Life leader showed up.

I woke up at 4:45 to make tea and set out muffins, mini cinnamon rolls and fruit tarts.

There was NARY A SCONE to be had in this town.

I didn't realize that at 5:00 am it was mainly just watching the guests arrive and that it would be SOME TIME before we actually saw Meghan in her wedding dress.

The girls dozed at various points in the service and I was super glad my cousin was up early for a run to watch the fantastic Bishop Michael Curry's spirited message with me.

The wedding was beautiful, Meghan was stunning and I'm glad we got up to watch it.

After everyone left, we made breakfast for our company and then Monte and I decided to go for a long walk, 

which turned into running stadium stairs,

which turned into push-ups and sit-ups,

which turned into us running home in a DOWN POUR,

which turned into us just walking and laughing because running didn't keep us dry at all.

We were SOAKED.

After showering, I was pretty jazzed and decided to run a quick errand to look for new athletic shoes.

Not just because mine were soaking wet at home.

Somewhere during walking around the shoe store and trying a few pairs on, I hit a wall of tired.

Hard.

Monte had brought me a pair of shoes that he thought would be fantastic for me (i.e. cheap) and they felt like cement blocks on my feet.

I bent down to untie them and I just. couldn't.

I laid on the floor of the shoe store with my feet in the air SAYING NO WORDS.

Monte took my shoes off and we left.

On the way to the car I told him how I had a new understanding of why toddlers throw themselves on the floor when they get tired.

IT FELT PRETTY FANTASTIC!

Monte and I both agreed I needed a nap PRONTO.

It was around that time that I realized I had missed a call.

The name of the caller reminded me that I had committed to making several dozen cookies that day.

I almost cried.

Somehow, by the grace of God, I made close to 72 million cookies without crying.

Or throwing myself on the floor.

Then I made dinner.

All without a nap.

It's amazing what a lack of sleep does.

I felt cross-eyed.

I have a new appreciation for parents of newborns.

And for older parents of newborns.

But mostly for the people that live like this 

ALL. THE. TIME.

People that cram so much into each day that there is no time to sit and enjoy it.

There's always something else to go to, 

to say yes to,

to do, do, do.

My small group just discussed this idea of recharging.

Figuring out where all the pressures we are under are coming from.

Which ones we can get out from under 

so we can be more fully charged 

for what is the most important.

We are reading Priscilla Shirer's Fervent and she suggested that the many pressures in our our lives can resemble slavery.

"Slaves don't rest.
Slaves just work.
They don't control their agenda for the day;
the day's agenda controls them."

When we start thinking we CAN'T say no, 

then well, we are talking like a slave.

We are free.

We DO have the freedom to say no.

To allow ourselves space in our day to be still, 

to go to bed at a reasonable time, 

to be sensitive to what our body and mind are saying 

when it's cross-eyed tired.

I still don't think I have fully recovered because it's May and May is its own form of toddler tired without the royal wedding.

But I've planned some margin in my week to allow me some downtime to recharge for what I know will be a busy weekend.

Because of just a few no's,  I saw a frog outside my window this morning while I was watering my flowers.

I noticed the first peony of the season.

 I watched flags being installed along the sidewalks by a school for Memorial Day on my walk.

And I listened to an awesome sermon about Jesus coming to us 

in the midst of the storm.

I think my head planter I got for Mother's Day perfectly sums up my current mood.

That Time I Almost Died in Whole Foods

I guess I always thought there was a good chance I'd die in a Whole Foods parking lot one day.

It's truly the most dangerous, out of control, let's-make-this-whole-parking-and-driving-
thing-up-as-we-go-place I've ever been.

Don't get me started on the electric cars 

that MAKE NO SOUNDS 

as they whip out of a parking space 

unannounced right in front of you.

I heard this song some time ago a guy wrote about the Whole Foods parking lot. So I'm not the only one with all these feelings about it. WARNING: There is a bit of language at the end.



When my oldest daughter first got her license, the Whole Foods parking lot was OFF LIMITS.

It really does dig deep into all the meanings of "defensive driving."

Maybe Ellie's "Norm MacDonald" driver's ed teacher SHOULD take students to the Whole Foods parking lot. 

It could be a lesson on how NOT to drive 

or that our country is just a vending machine spitting out driver's licenses 

to people who really can't drive.

All in cars with lots of bumper stickers.

Granted, our Whole Foods is close enough to our house that we could walk, which we do A TON when the weather permits.

But being as we live in OHIO, the weather does not consistently permit.

So I have to drive.

In complete contrast to the nightmare in the parking lot, INSIDE Whole Foods is a pleasant, esthetically satisfying time.

Except on Friday evenings when they do a wine tasting.

But that's a rant for another day.

I had a plan for dinner the other night that Ellie gave a big ol' thumbs down to.

I quickly put together a different plan that required me to get just a few things from Whole Foods.

It had been raining and storming all day. 

It was so wet that I saw an actual duck, soaked to the bone, fly out of my neighbor's yard.

But it had stopped.

Perfect time to make a run for my life in the Whole Foods parking lot.

I was quickly knocking out my list and humming along to whatever music was playing in the store when my phone rang.

It was Monte. He told me to hurry because the tornado sirens were going off 

and he didn't want me driving in, well, a tornado.

The ambiance and music was so pleasant

 that I didn't hear the sirens!

As I started unloading my cart at the check-out, I noticed how dark it was outside and how hard it was raining.

I was taken a little off-guard because I HAVE IMAGINED what my death 

in the Whole Foods parking lot would look like. 

 I've seen the whole thing played out.

But dying INSIDE a Whole Foods?

Hmm.

I didn't see that one coming.

The cashier was super chill and asked me about my day and what I was making for dinner. She scanned each item with the urgency of a slow sloth.

I kept nervously looking outside so she'd get the hint. 

Danger was coming! Seek shelter! Assume the tornadic position!

I resisted the urge to scream,

"HURRY THE FREAK UP!"

As I walked away, I heard the woman behind me tell the cashier about the tornado and her need to hurry and the cashier said,

"Oh, those sirens are never right."

Poor Sloth's going to die inside 
a Whole Foods for sure!

I got soaked getting to my car (after a car almost hit me, for the love of Pete!) and practically blown away getting into the house.

The lights flickered several times as we started dinner but the tornado warnings were called off and it went back to just good ol' thunder storming.

And I lived to tell the tale.

The Education of Driving

Ellie is learning to drive.

She has completed the classroom portion and just finished the in-car part of driver's ed right before Spring Break.

The in-car driving was two hours long each session with an instructor and pretty much trial by fire.

Monte had driven with Ellie but she was pretty anxious so the sessions never lasted more than 10 or 15 minutes.

She begged me to take her driving but I told her I wanted her to get a little more experience under her belt before I risked the integrity of my blonde highlights.

It's a financial thing.

Plus, I had blown it with McDaniel letting her drive my big SUV 

WAY before she was ready.

We went to pick up Ellie from golf practice 

and McDaniel almost took out EVERY mailbox on the way.

Driver's Ed scene from "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day."
Great movie.

I wasn't going to make the same mistake.

Ellie's first driving session didn't go super well.

For starters, I watched her park at the end of her session with the instructor and she pulled in pretty hot and slammed on the brakes. Hard.

She blamed the old car she's learned to drive in for having stomp-it brakes.

I told her she better get used to driving old cars. 

Princess is not getting anything new until she's buying.

I once had a car catch on fire 

while I was waiting at a fast food drive-through window.

Yes, I waited until I got my order 

before I drove across the street to a mechanic.

And yes, the fast food worker pointed out that my car was on fire.

Like I didn't notice.

Ellie said there was lots of yelling and the instructor had to use the brake on his side of the car during her sessions. A lot.

She was given a little book to take to each session that he wrote comments in.

When I picked her up after her first session, she read it to me.

I stopped hearing clearly after "doesn't know right from left under pressure" and "turned from a non-turning lane."

She reassured me that she's a good driver but the instructor is just picky.

When I asked what he's picky about she replied with finger air quotes,

"Stopping at railroad tracks to see if a train is coming."

Dear word, she's going to kill the driver's ed guy!

Ellie told me that he's been doing this for 29 years.

29 years of stomping a brake from the passenger side of the car.

29 years of antacids.

29 years of telling someone to turn right only to have them turn left FROM A NON-TURNING LANE.

29 years of almost getting hit by a train.

29 years of seeing your life pass before your eyes.

Ellie said he's pretty laid back, reminds her of Norm MacDonald and has a million stories of people doing it worse than her.

One story was actually about her friend.

During her in-car, the instructor asked her to fill up the car with gas.

That was something she'd never done before.

He walked her through the process but failed to tell her to wait until the pump was off to pull out the gas nozzle.

She sprayed gasoline everywhere and made the long list of stories the instructor now tells in the classroom portion of driver's ed.

I told Ellie to make that her new goal.

DO NOT make the long list of stories 

the instructor will tell in class.

When I was pulling into the high school parking lot for Ellie's next in-car, I turned left in a "turn right only" area (I swear I've NEVER seen that sign before) and I accidentally ramped the curb.

She gave me the side eye and told me it was 

all starting to make sense to her now.

I do recollect a faint memory of my driver's ed teacher 

popping Rolaids while I drove.

But then again, we used to do in-cars with 3 people at a time.

One of the girls in my group did not have a good handle on speed or turns and we ended up off the road and in a field.

Thank goodness I grew up in a rural area.

I remember holding hands with a girl in the backseat and praying out loud.

None of us thought we were making it out alive.

GOD BLESS those driving instructors! 

They must have steel running through their veins and lining of their stomach.

They are doing a job that I could not do. I put that right up there with skyscraper window washer and tree trimmer where they swing willy nilly from a rope in the air with a chainsaw.

Is that guy smoking a cigar?

I wish I could extend Ellie's driving lessons a wee bit longer because we have to get in 50 hours of road time before getting her license in July.

My blonde highlights may not make it.