My little brother turned 16 a few weeks ago. Last week he called me at work to brag that he passed his G1 test AND drove home. With a whole 7 days of driving to his name I only had images of slight disfigurement (instead of a painful, horrible death) and said yes when asked if we could reverse driving roles and he take me to work instead of the opposite; Are you walking the dog or is the dog walking you scenario?
It really was just around a few corners and jail cell lengths down a busy street but I was fairly self-congratulatory as I tested my breathing and listened intently at my pulse. Not even on edge. I was the cool sister, cucumberesque. The only giveaway was that I kept reaching up and clasping the seatbelt that crossed my chest.
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