Tag Archives: cars

Driving Miss Amy

8 Years Ago

18-year-old Amy gets behind the steering wheel of the mini van. Her 4 younger siblings sit in the back. Parents wave from the doorway. 

10-year-old Elijah: *waves to parents with a long-suffering sigh*  “At least we will see them in heaven.” 

Present Day

*I teach Elijah to drive*

Image result for how the tables have turned memes

Wrong Side (of the Apartment)

I have been blessed over the last year and an half by an abundance of kind people who give me rides places, especially people who give me rides to and from bible study. 

But I have a confession. And this is true both with my current apartment and my last one. If someone drops me off at the wrong side of the apartment complex, I won’t say anything. It feels like such a small thing. What does it matter to me if I have to walk a few extra minutes? 

But it is also such a silly thing. It would make more sense for me to have them drop me off at the correct door. Yet to do that, I would need to tell them they’ve spent the last few weeks dropping me off at the wrong place. That’s embarrassing.

It starts off so innocently. They drop me off for the first time and I gesture to the building. They pull up to the wrong door. I know my key will work anyway so I smile and wave and go inside. I could say something but it feels so extra to say, ‘no, not this door on the building. That one.’ 

So I say nothing and the next time they drop me off at the same spot. And again. And again. And by that point so much time has passed…well…to say something would be so awkward. And it is such a slight inconvenience. 

But still, a wholly unnecessary inconvenience. And I don’t know what to do about it.

Fluent in Confused Daughter

Maybe it came from raising 3 daughters, maybe earlier from having 3 sisters, but my Dad is great at translating the language of Confused Daughter. Take last night:

Me: “Hey Dad! So I was driving and then I heard a beeping noise and I looked down and a weird light on my dashboard was on and it was by my temperature gauge and I looked and the engine temperature was all the way in red! So I pulled over.”

Translation: My engine is overheating. 

Dad: “Where are you?”

Me: “Well, I left home and turned at Dustin’s – y’know, by the farm – and then was on that road and passed the place with the boats and now I’m on a stretch of isolated road. It looks kind of serial killerish.” 

Translation: I have no idea. But I am not lost. 

Dad: “Did you notice anything else odd  while you were driving?”

Me: “No, it drove fine.” 

Dad: “Is your heater on?”



Dad: “Probably not.”

Me: “Lots of cars on this road for how late it is…someone just pulled up behind me…go awayyyy…are they going to pass me? I hope they don’t get out and try to help. They’re going… No….? Ah, pulling up alongside…I’m good! Yup…go on along. Totally fine. On the phone. Already being helped. Okay. So what should I do now?”

Translation: Not talking to you at the moment, Dad, but stay on the phone anyway in case this person isn’t so nice.

Dad: “How about you turn around and come home?”

Me: “I can do that but I’m going to go straight first because this road has too many blind curves for me to comfortably turn around on in the dark. This might take a little bit. I see some driveways…maybe if I can find a road up ahead to turn around…And then I won’t go too fast in case the engine overheats again.”

Translation: It may take me a few extra minutes to get home but I’m coming. 

And you know what? Through it all, my Dad just patiently talked me through what to look for and when to pull over. Because he’s awesome like that. 

Why I Don’t Watch Horror Movies

Grandma: may want to skip this one!

There I was. Stranded on a dark, rainy road in the middle of nowhere. My van decided to overheat and like the experienced driver of old vehicles I am, I instantly pulled over and called my Dad.

As the phone rang, I looked out my window and realized how much my surroundings resembled a horror movie. Wet. Cold. Dark. Late. Broken vehicle. I allowed my imagination to run wild for a moment…

And came up with nothing. Because I don’t watch horror movies.

But I know about serial killers. So I locked my van and contemplated that for about half a second.

Then the voice of reason in my head pointed out I live in the Midwest and at most someone would pull over and ask if I need help. Sure enough, within 5 minutes someone pulled over to check on me!

Thankfully, my car was fine for the drive back to my mechanic…aka, Dad. Hopefully I make it to Madison tonight!

Manual Transmissions

Today my brother decided to teach our sister how to drive stick. I got to tag along. Since no one in my family believes I’m capable of it, I haven’t learned stick yet. I drive more than anyone in my family and have never gotten a ticket but they still disparage my driving. Rude. 

However, tagging along was fun and Sam even let me get behind the wheel for a few minutes. It was not nearly as challenging as everyone said. I’m definitely going to make him teach me now.