The Pony Takes a Crash Course In Driving

In the mid-winter a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of driving.

That's likely because his other fancy has turned to thoughts of his prom date and the entire future spread out before them like an endless comped casino buffet.

Yes. The Pony has declared that he wants to have his driver's license by April. Not that he would want to drive himself to prom, of course. "NO. I do not want to drive in a tux!" You would think it was as constricting as a suit of armor.

Okay. The cat is out of the bag. The Pony does, indeed, have a prom date. She's one of HIS PEOPLE that he met at Missouri Scholar's Academy this summer, and at their reunion in November. He's head-over-heels with delight. Bought the tickets today, but got them for last Friday's price, because he sent a text to the sponsor Friday at 4:30 asking her the details. He's got a little charmer in him. Sure didn't get it from me.

So Saturday after bowling, The Pony and Hick took the Gator for a drive around the grounds and up the road. That's because Hick said he would not ride in The Pony's truck with him again until he had more practice on the Gator. I don't know exactly what transpired during that lesson, but it's been more than a month since The Pony was behind a wheel.

Sunday afternoon, between Goodwilling and Super Bowl, Hick again called to The Pony for a driving lesson. Off they went. Where, I knew not. I assumed it would be around the gravel roads in our private sector. Up past the house where the headless body was found in the septic tank, perhaps. Down by the corner where the sheriff blocked off the road to investigate the illegally-dumped portable meth lab contained in two cardboard boxes. Along the creek where the old stove was abandoned. Around past our other section of land next to the guy who threatened to shoot Hick and ended up in the county jail which eventually cost him $6000 to clear his name.

So it was with great surprise and consternation that I received the news that Hick had taken The Pony out on blacktop! Indeed. Hick had that barely-Gator-qualified inexperienced driver on county roads so narrow that Val herself pulls to the edge and comes nigh to a stop when she meets another vehicle. The Pony seemed none the worse-for-wear when he explained his escapades this morning. Yes, he had been a bit nervous. But he made the journey safely, even though Hick kept harping at him, "Don't get so far to the right!"

I was relieved they both escaped unscathed. BUT IT WAS A FALSE SENSE OF SECURITY! As we came up the driveway this evening, we saw Hick going down it on the Gator, dogs running alongside barking. Hick made a U-turn and came back at me, across the yard next to the driveway.

"I knew you were coming, because I saw Juno start wagging her tail." Juno jumped up in the Gator between Hick's legs and the dashboard.

VAL: "Why is my dog sitting in the Gator with you?"

HICK: "She always does that, until I start it. Then she jumps off barking. Hey, Pony. I took the brakes off the Caravan. You were right."

VAL: "What? Why would you take the brakes off? How does Pony know anything about the $1000 Caravan?"

PONY: "Because, Mom. That's what he made me drive yesterday."

VAL: "WHAT? He didn't drive his little truck? You made him drive that van with the window duct-taped shut?"

HICK: "The van was behind his truck. So we took the van."

PONY: "I tried to tell him it didn't have brakes."

HICK: "You were right. I'll fix them."

VAL: "Might as well get that window fixed while you're at it."

Yeah. Not only did Hick have my baby out on the narrow county roads, but he had him behind the wheel of a $1000 Caravan with no brakes, no speedometer, and a duct-taped window. He was an accident waiting to happen.

I'm so glad The Pony has a positive ledger with Even Steven.