Teenagers

Why don't passenger seats have an optional brake petal when teens are learning to drive? I fear for my life in the van when Erin is behind the wheel. She has been driving for six months and is still not ready to get her license. Or I should clarify, I am not ready for her to have a license. She scares me. Really scares me. And....Lauren is ready to get her learner's permit. Lauren has been ready for ages. I am praying she is a better driver than her sister because I swear I find one crazy, wild gray hair sticking out of my head in a funky position every time I survive a driving session with Erin. At this point, I can still pluck the offending grays but with two of them on the road, I am a short step from the hair dye isle. And a prescription for my nerves.

I have started knitting again in hopes of keeping my hands moving. The stiffness caused by my arthritis has clearly worsened the last few months. I enjoy the knitting...it's rather mindless and keeps my hands busy but allows my brain relax a bit. While knitting this weekend, Lauren looked at me and in the most serious tone declared I am 75 years old at heart. Chances are strong she is right. If the conversation were to have ended at that moment, I would have been left contemplating all the ways that could be a positive statement but before I was able to, Erin piped in asking why I dress like I am 75. She then added that I have been pregnant for 45 months so I must have grown comfortable dressing in maternity wear. I know why some animals eat their young.