Fifty Yards

The first time was when I drove down the driveway.  My dad said let’s go, we’re gonna see what you got.  I got behind the wheel and my dad jumped into the passenger seat.  He handed me the keys, told me to step on the brake, and turned on the car for me.  Are you sure I can do this? I said.  Of course, Bec, it’s only down the driveway.  He instructed me to slowly take my foot off of the brake and just coast down the driveway.  My lungs filled with air.  My heart vigorously pumped blood through my veins.  Dad, I can’t do this, I’m going too fast.  Bec, don’t worry, you’re doing great.  Just keep your eyes ahead of you.  After 50 yards we reached the bottom of the driveway.  Okay, now step on the brake.  I slammed my foot on the pedal and our bodies lurched forward.  Well, I stopped, I said as I laughed.  Good thing you still have a couple more years until you really take the wheel.

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