The "Adventure" of being a Gramma

Being a Gramma is sometimes a mini-adventure. Last night, my nine year old grandaughter, Cassandra, called me and said she had an assignment to interview a relative about an obstacle that he or she overcame. She said her father was busy and her mother said she was not good at that kind of thing. After thinking about it for a minute or two, I told her this story.

When I was 16 or 17, my father was teaching me to drive. One day I was driving and had a minor accident, I think I turned too hard and the result was hitting a guardrail as I came off of a bridge. After that, neither my father or I were in the mood for further driving lessons.

Several years later when I was 21, my husband was trying to teach me to drive and that did not work out. The only available car was standard transmission and I was not doing well learning that as well as the basic fundamentals of driving. I thought I was NEVER going to get a drivers license! But, I knew that I had to.

According to Cassy, I then needed to tell her how I overcame that hurdle. So I told her what I did. I looked in the yellow pages and found a professional (I stressed the word professional to Cassy) driving teacher, and I took lessons. After a couple of months of weekly lessons, I passed the drivers test on my very first try, although to this day, I cannot really parallel park! So, while it took several years (at least four years since my first permit), I DID finally get my drivers license.

Cassandra, who is in fourth grade, told me last night that her teacher keeps telling her that she is reading at a fifth grade level! Sometimes I am surprised at the words she uses during our conversations.