After yesterday’s aborted trip to
the DMV for Alesia to get her learner’s permit, we tried again this morning. We
were there a little after 8, and the line was much shorter. No stinky people,
either, at least none close enough to smell.
No, today we got it done! I was
worried they would give me a hard time about her Russian birth certificate or
passport, and there was no issue at all. They just used the Certificate of
Citizenship. I do need to get her an American passport, though.
Alesia was so excited that she
passed the tests. When we got near home, in the neighborhood, I let her drive.
She only veered onto a grassy area once. I kept my cool. She parked in the
driveway. A little later when we were headed to Kroger she showed Mother
proudly, “Look how neatly I parked!”
Every time she makes a mistake she
giggles.
Mike’s friend came over again. I
told the boys we would give them a ride to the swimming pool, Alesia driving.
Michael looked at C and said “Be afraid. Be very afraid!” I thought it was
funny. Then I had to take deep breaths and talk her through backing out of the
driveway. It was a little jerky, and she veered onto the grass a little at one
point. The giggling immediately followed.
When we got in the house Mother
asked her how it went. “I did bad,” she giggled. “No you didn’t,” I shot back.
“Yes. I did bad.”
“Alesia, you didn’t knock down the
mailbox. You didn’t hit shrubbery. I wasn’t screaming. So you did fine,” I
assured her. She giggled.
Of course, after I got my permit, I
knocked down the mailbox, drove through flowerbeds, hit other cars, almost hit
the dog – I was a terrible driver when I started. Terrible. My father’s face
used to go white and he would sweat profusely when in the car with me. He had a
bad heart. I had a lead foot. The first time I ever drove he screamed “Carton
of eggs!” over and over, until I finally slammed on the brakes and looked at
him. “What does carton of eggs mean?”
“Press the pedals like there’s a
carton of eggs under them that you don’t want broken, he said, trying to talk
normally. He had whiplash the next day.
So far, Alesia has only slammed on
the brakes once. Today. Tomorrow, who knows?
We went to Kroger around noon to do
the weekly shopping, and I was standing at the front of the store, waiting on
Mother and the kids to catch up [Mother drives the motorized cart], and I saw a
tall blonde man and thought hmm, what a cutie. Then – wait – wow he looks
familiar. And he’s wearing a West Virginia tee shirt. It’s Ben! Whoa! He came
over and recognized me and gave me a big hug. We worked together years ago, my
first job after moving to Atlanta. We both worked for a lady lawyer who was
incredibly uptight and ran us ragged. He was the associate, I was her
paralegal. He was back here visiting his brother, although he lives in West
Virginia. The really ironic thing is that he has a daughter adopted from
Colombia! Small world. It was great to see him.
My friend Bronwyn came for dinner. I
made lasagna. We had a lovely visit. She is a teacher and a single mom, so
stays very busy. It was great to see her.
I made a green bean salad to take to
a family reunion tomorrow up in North Georgia. Bronwyn and Mother kept testing
it and telling me what else to add to it. I don’t eat cold salads. I think it
will be a big hit tomorrow, at least among the folks who like bean salads…
I am hoping we will have time to
just stop and buy some chicken nuggets to take up there.
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Two sites to check out if you need a chuckle -
There I Fixed it
The Fail Blog
The Fail Blog
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I LOVE this quote from Teddy Roosevelt. It pretty much sums up my life:
"It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by the dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat."
