Reluctant Sorta Home School Momma: Switching Lanes

Last week, I took Caleb to get his driving permit. Instead of being nervous I was excited. Excited about him driving, the prospect of a “new” car, and taking a step toward siccing him on the big, bad world. I wasn’t afraid for any of it, and considering my penchant for death anxiety, that is a major accomplishment. 

Two days later, Chaz and I have an appointment with Dallas Area Rapid Transit. It hasn’t occurred to me the irony. Wednesday, I take Caleb to prove he can learn to drive. Friday I take Chaz to prove he can’t.

Sadness comes fast and heavy. Only a few minutes away from Chaz’s school, and I am sobbing.

Get it together I tell myself. And I do.

He greets me with his usual warmth, “Finally. It took you long enough.”

When we get to the DART office, I let him go into the cubicle by himself. I decide not to speak any answers for him, which leaves him with some long uncomfortable moments while he searches. I only speak when the interviewer glances over at me, which is only a few times. THIS IS HARD FOR ME.

“How’s life going for you?” the interviewer asks him.

“Not so great. “

“What could make it better?” She stops looking at her computer and turns to him.

“Oh, you know,” Chaz says, “if I could just do whatever I wanted. Like a grown up.”
“What kind of things?”

“Oh, you know, live on my own, smoke, drink. Stuff like that.”

“I don’t even do those things,” the lady chuckles. ‘What kind of drink?”

“A Bud Light or something.”

We both laugh now and I know for sure, this interviewer’s last appointment on Friday afternoon, is going to be a fun one. She continues on, obviously enjoying Chaz’s candor, and I just hold on to my seat, praying he doesn’t say anything that gets adult protective services called on me.

When we walk out from under ground at the DART office, the sidewalk is glaring from the sunshine. Chaz reminds ME to look before I cross the street to our car.

I drive home, pretty sure Chaz has been re-certified for the Dart para-transit service and I am maybe, just a little bit, less certifiable. I check the time, glad we finished early. Caleb needs the car for his drive-time with Chris and I need a nap.