Sunday, April 19, 1998

Permit may teach more than driving

By Carol Lackey

My popularity as a mother has increased by leaps and bounds. Or, should I say, by streets, blocks and turn signals.

Seems like just days ago, as the mother of a 15-year-old daughter, it was not necessarily "tight" (that means "good" to all of you who aren't cool) to have me around.

My role in life was to be available to drop my child off at a friend's house or the mall at a moment's notice, provide money and food as needed, and by all means, to stay off the phone.

Now, however, my presense is requested.

The coveted permit

My daughter aced a written driving test last week to earn her "learner's permit," which allows her to operate a vehicle as long as a licensed driver at least 18 years of age is sitting in the front seat beside her.

Which is where I come in.

All of a sudden, it's OK to have mom sitting in the front seat as she tools around town with a backseat full of friends.

As she practiced her driving in south Abilene Sunday afternoon, she honked and waved to some boys as they passed by.

"Should I duck?" I asked, thinking she would be embarrassed her mom was with her.

She informed me it was OK if they saw me -- those guys had all been driving with their mothers not long ago.

What do they think?

I wonder what others think, however, as we're driving around town at night with the windows down and music blaring. Do they wonder why a 40-something woman is listening to loud, thumping rap?

I certainly would.

Even though I feel a little self-conscious about it, it's all just fine with me.

Unfortunately, my popularity abruptly ends when we exit the car.

Just a few nights ago, I went into her room when she had friends visiting. After lingering a few moments too long, it was obvious they were ready for me to leave.

No more hanging out with my daughter and her friends. They didn't need a licensed driver definitely over the age of 18 in her room.

No matter.

Presence is requested

I'm relishing the fact that for the next several months my daughter will actually want me to be with her.

I get to laugh and talk with her, enjoy her friends and be a part of her life.

Maybe she'll learn that parents can be fun to be with and that we're not always worried and hassled and serious. We can be cool, too!

This wonderful feeling of being wanted by a teen-ager will end on her 16th birthday in December -- or sooner if she can talk her dad into allowing her to apply for a hardship license.

Then I'll be relegated to staying home alone.

Maybe I'll make a phone call.

Carol Lackey is Features Editor of the Abilene Reporter-News.