If you see me walking like Igor, limping and hunched over with my hand raised and curled like a claw, it is just because my teenager is driving. My youngest has his learner’s permit and loves to drive. It is taking years off my life. My foot is permanently cramped from jamming on a brake pedal that is not there. My fingers grip the armrest, and my back is deformed from diving under the dashboard. He will be a good driver some day, but now is overcautious at the wrong times and over confident in others. He takes off quickly with such force equivalent to a rocket launch. Then, he slows down to a creep when another car comes towards us. He speeds up to intersections where the light is red, but hesitates when it is green. We careen around corners, run over curbs and frequently veer into oncoming traffic. I try to sit quietly, but it is impossible. When he drives with his dad, I am relegated to the back seat where I can stare at the floor and try not to get sick as he weaves from lane to lane. I jam my fingers in my mouth to keep from calling out, but sometimes cannot help myself. Then, he gets offended and chides me that I am not helping matters. My husband is remarkably patient. I don’t know where that comes from; perhaps he is taking medication. My drug of choice is chewing gum. When I am in the passenger seat, I put in a mouthful of gum and chomp away as hard as I can. I still occasionally cry out a warning, but try to do it in a pleasant and instructive manner. At least for the first block. Then, I bark orders and act like a drill sergeant. When we get to our destination, I feel drained. He turns to me and says, “That went well didn’t it?” Yes, if we are on a roller coaster at an amusement park. He starts driver’s education next week. Do you think I should send the teacher a gift certificate for a nice steak dinner? I wonder if Paul ever taught Timothy how to drive. Do you think he remembered that time when he wrote Colossians 3:21? Whenever, we are instructing our children in something new, we would be wise to remember not to “embitter them or they will become discouraged”. That means that we should be positive in our approach. A friend once taught me about a criticism sandwich. For everything negative we must say, we should place it between two positive comments. “I like the way you are so cautious, but you don’t have to pull completely off the road to let another car go by. Your hands are in just the right place on the steering wheel.” Instead of “AGHGHGH! Get back on the road, you are going in the ditch!” He wants drive me somewhere. We’ll go to the store for gum. Maybe they sell kind words there, too.