I remember the first time I actually drove a car on a “real” road.
Prior to then, my mother had been teaching me the basics in parking lots and on winding cemetery roads where there were really no other cars and nothing in the way. During those times the car moved at a crawl as I tried to get used to controlling the enormous, moving weapon that held the secrets of getting teenage me anywhere I wanted to go.
To say we were both nervous, then, was an understatement.
It went well at first, until I approached a stoplight. “Light,” my mother reminded me. I started to slow down. Not enough, as it turned out. “Light,” she reminded me again as we made only a slight decrease in speed. I slammed on the brakes.
Fortunately, the seatbelts did their job, and kept us mostly in our seats.
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