Chuck a Wobbly!

Dreaming that my kids will grow up one day (in the far distant future) and take care of themselves and maybe even me once in a while, I was spellbound when my fourteen-year-old daughter held my car keys in her hand and asked, “Mum, can I start the car?”

You see, no one is allowed to drive my car. It’s not that I’m a selfish tyrant or anything; it’s just that without my car our life in Cairo would more or less grind to a halt. So, my initial thought was ‘No! Never! It won’t happen in this life time!’ But I looked at her eager face as she was trying to stand as tall as she could (making herself look grown up) and she was doing this with such a look of expectation, that I felt I just couldn’t say no.

My twelve-year-old son was sitting nearby, eagerly awaiting the verdict. He knew that a ‘yes’ meant that he would also be allowed to do the same. I had two pairs of eyes staring at me; waiting.

Sulking a little, I wondered, “What’s the big deal about starting up the car?” Then my mind flicked back a number of years to my adolescence and yes, I remembered very well how exciting it was to sit behind the wheel of a car with your imagination on over-drive, with thoughts of driving on real roads, with real cars; it was a representation of entering life and everything that goes with that.

So, did I really want my kids to feel grown up so soon? Now? Is it wrong to want just a bit more time of them being young, sweet, innocent and…dare I say it…. close to me? Am I selfish to want them close to me as long as I can? Does having anything to do with a car mean going away? They are my two youngest. Surely, it’s not time yet to even start thinking of letting go; watching them take the first of the final steps toward adulthood and independence. Gulp!

During that split second when her eyes were begging me to let her start up Sparky, I tried to look at things from a positive point of view. I imagined her in the not-to-distant future driving herself and her brother around, getting shopping, dropping things off here and there and generally running errands – hmm, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. And, (the positive attitude was kicking in) just because they might drive away, doesn’t mean they won’t drive back!

“Ok,” I said without smiling. She didn’t even wait; she just took off toward the door, with her brother not far behind.
“Hang on a bit!” They both stopped and looked at me, fearing the worst.
“Explain to me what you’ll do. I mean, I have to be sure you won’t send Sparky lurching forward into another car, right?”
They nodded. Then my daughter started to explain about the foot pedals and what each one does and the gears. Then she explained, “But when I want to start the car I have to put it in… what’s it called? You know, in the middle? Oh yes, wobbly. I have to put the car in wobbly!” She looked proud of herself. Her brother nodded his head, “Yes wobbly,” he echoed.

“Wobbly?” I said. “Is that the technical term for it? It’s called ‘neutral’.” They were smiling and nodding their heads. It doesn’t really matter I guess, what they call it, as long as they know what to do. “Ok then, off you go.”

So the relay of whose turn it is to start the car continues. Good behavior is paid off with an extra turn and they are as happy as can be. I wonder how long this will last. But I should have known. The other day my daughter asked me, “Mum, when I’m eighteen and I know how to drive, will you let me drive your car?”

“Let’s see how things go. One day at a time.” I whispered the last sentence to myself.