finally getting myself into gear

After too many years of riding shotgun I’ve finally decided that it’s time to take control of my independence. So, I’ve signed up for driving lessons. I must just establish that the last person who attempted to teach me to drive (my ever-patient stepmom) ended up with a rather large gash in the side of their car thanks to a pillar jumping out of nowhere in a basement car park. After that little scare I figured that public transport really wasn’t overly tedious and a drivers licence was deemed an unnecessary luxury.
However, a looming trip to South Africa, sans husband i.e. no chauffeur, where the public transport infrastructure is somewhat skeletal, was all I needed to finally get my rear “into gear” and just do what I’ve been saying I will do for the last 8 years.
On Friday I undertook my first lesson with Michael and I’m inclined to think we are going to get along quite nicely. The spare controls on his side of the car fill me with great confidence and he doesn’t appear the least bit fazed when police cars pull out in front of me, grannies cross the road at their leisure totally oblivious to the learner who is still using the clutch as a break, irritable drivers pull up impatiently behind me as I “creep and peep” at intersections and don’t take gaps unless I can’t actually see another car on the horizon. Overall I was rather pleased with how much I remembered and an hour into the lesson I was chugging along (“a little slower on the clutch, remember…”) Putney High St as Michael disapproved vocally of bus drivers who had the audacity to pull out in front of his pupil.
Now, the next challenge is to convince my grandfather that I am capable of driving the car when I’m back in Port Elizabeth in September. Why do family have this habit of remembering things you wish they would forget? You see there was an incident, when I was much younger, where my grandfather’s scooter ended up in the hedge…with me in the drivers seat. Maybe I don’t have the best track record but I do have determination and that’s got to count for something. Perhaps a licence at the very least.