But Angela sent me something recently that warmed my weary parent-with-teenage-drivers heart.
Thankfully, Angela is tucked away among her sweet roommates at college with no vehicle accessible other than her bike. My sister and brother-in-law live nearby but, through a stroke of parenting genius, only drive manual transmission cars. We haven’t owned one in years, so our kids haven’t had the opportunity to learn to drive a stick shift (though it is the best way to enjoy the open road and I dearly miss driving one).
Angela has admitted to borrowing her Texas cousin’s truck once or twice to drive to her weekly piano accompaniment job off-campus. Connor is in graduate school and is a kind soul who should start reading this blog more regularly. Because she loves driving his truck and says it accelerates nicely.
I pray every Monday night for the truck’s safety. And hers.
When we last left Angela, she was stranded on the side of the freeway with a blown tire. But, due to prior experiences, she knows exactly what to do in these situations. Pull over. Call for help. Text about it.
Angela recently received a message from a high school classmate. Dear Zoe was visiting from her home in Oxford, England. Apparently she had a little mishap on the freeway. Zoe texted the following:
“Please tell your mum that I would not have known who to call when the Jeep just stopped in the middle lane of the Kennedy after a 5 hour drive from Carbondale in rush hour if not for her blog.”
So, there it is.
Our outrageously high auto premium has finally benefited another human being.
I have my silver lining though not my silver coins.