Driving Master Alasdair
By Ken Swarner
As I explained late last year, my 13 year old son, Alasdair went to his first school dance with a girl just before Thanksgiving. Seeing that it was a successful date, there was only one natural course of action to follow...a second date.
The catch was, neither could see over a steering wheel...so they needed a parent to drive.
I, of course, volunteered to chauffeur the two teenagers wherever they wanted to go (in this case, dinner and a movie), and not just because what my wife said when she heard I agreed to drive.
"Ken, are you just looking for column material?"
In truth, I drove because I thought I'd do the best job. I couldn't allow the girl's father todrive. Not only because he's six foot four, but also because no teenage boy should have to go on a date with a girl's father. A boy's sweat glands could literally explode in a case like that.
The girl's mom would be worse.
Finally, and most importantly, there was no way I could allow my wife to attend the date. The reasons are obvious:
"Smile for the camera kids!"
"Oh jeez, mom! Sit down - please - the movie is starting."
"I just want to get a picture of you and your date."
"But you 're in that man's seat."
"I am? Oh, excuse me sir - say, would you mind taking a picture of the three of us?"
As I said, I was the only logical choice. And, of course, I did a pretty good job. When we arrived at the girl's house, I waited in the vehicle. I drove as if I weren't there. I didn't clear my throat, cough, smirk, fiddle with the radio or ask my son's girlfriend how her parents were doing. I was a ghost. I didn't speak unless first spoken to, and I didn't make eye contact with them.
At the movie theater I maintained a 20-row distance from the kids. I even sat in front of them so there'd be no reason for me to turn and stare. And when I did need to excuse myself to the bathroom, as I walked past their seats, I pretended something flew into my eye.
I did such a good job, that when we arrived at McDonald's, my son acknowledged my fine efforts. Once again, I stayed in the car. A few minutes later Alasdair walked back outside and thanked me for driving. Then, to top that, he handed me a hot fudge sundae for my services. See what I mean? Of course, when I called my wife on the cell, she said he probably did this to make sure I wouldn't walk into the restaurant.
Yep, I was the perfect chauffeur. My son even told me later that I did a much better job than he expected.
"You didn't even say anything embarrassing or dumb," he added.
"Thanks." I think.
Now Avaialble - "Whose Kids Are These Anyway? the hilarious new book by Ken Swarner (Penguin/Putnam). Available at bookstores everywhere.
A READER'S REVIEW AT AMAZON.COM OF KEN'S NEW BOOK:
Parenting is a HOOT!!
I didn't think anyone could make everyday life as funny as the wonderful author Erma Bombeck, but Ken has certainly changed my mind..He is right on with his views of family life...It is a learning experience indeed! If only we could all learn to laugh at ourselves...and everyday situations!!
Ken Swarner writes the syndicated humor column Family Man. He can be seen at www.kenswarner.bigstep.com or at [email protected].
I have a new website at www.kenswarner.com.
This material is copyrighted, and is intended for private use. No part of this can be published in any format without written permission from Ken Swarner.
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