Baby You Can Drive My Car

As previously ranted, I am the most physically-uncoordinated person that ever walked. I'm a klutz; grace seems to elude me.

It's not one of the traits she's proud of but sadly, I take after my mother in this aspect. When I was 12, my father taught my mother how to drive. On Sundays, the entire family would go to the public school grounds and while we children played, my mother got her driving lessons from my father. I can still remember the last time my mother occupied the driver's seat of a car; they almost got into a mishap. The details are vague but if my memory serves me right, they almost ran into a kid so my mother swerved. Then she lost control and they would've fell off a ditch hadn't my father reacted fast enough. My mother swore off driving after that.

Now, I believe that what happened in your childhood influences the way you think or act in your adult life. For every time I imagine myself learning how to drive, I'd automatically think of this event and I'd lose my nerve. I would take on every reason that comes to mind just so I could put it off, scaredy cat that I am. If my best friend hadn't pushed me and nagged me into getting my SP and enrolling for lessons, the year would've ended with me none the wiser.

So how did I do? Brushing aside the occasional panic I induced on my instructors and the much-repeated "sa starting gani, kung buhi-an ang clutch unya dili nimo gas-an, mapalong jud nang sakyanan", I think I fared pretty well. I was uncharacteristically agile at following verbal instructions. I once maneuvered the steering wheel to the right using my left hand and at the same time set the gear to 1 using my right hand. I can multitask!!! It's truly unbelievable. It's empowering. This may not be much to you, but it's something I thought I'm incapable of doing. There may just be hope for me, after all.

Image from Google Images.