I was thinking about you and cars.
You put me behind the wheel of a some very powerful machinery at a young age. I remember one day heading down country roads with you trusting me not to kill us. I'd jerk the wheel toward the ditch then slam on the brakes every time a big truck came our way. There seemed to be a lot of trucks. Fortunately you laughed each time and just let me keep driving until I figured out there was enough road for everyone.
And when I wasn't driving, you were on the prowl. "Let's look for some cops to run from," you'd say. My heart would jump because I knew there was a fairly large percentage of your brain that would allow this to actually happen. Then you'd turn up the radio and search for empty parking lots.
The perfect doughnut.
The car would spin and gravity knew just what to do to exhilarate me.
Now I think about the prospect of my kids riding around in 400 horsepower automobile looking for the perfect parking lot and maybe a cop or two to run from.
I think about that scenario and I wonder if, as I was grounding them for life, they'd be able to tell I was jealous.
Thanks for the rides.