By: Angela Gillaspie © October 2009

"I'm driving."

Those two words - when uttered by my 16 year-old son Josh - set off a stink similar to a Second Civil War. Josh would be the rebel Confederate, ready to fight for his beliefs and my 18 year-old daughter Ashley is the Union enforcer eager to set things straight.

On her 15th birthday, Ashley had her driver's permit and was mowing down pine tree saplings in our front yard in my monster-sized Chevy Suburban. After a year of driving both my car and me crazy, she proudly got her driver's license and now at 18, she has a little over three years of driving experience and knows everything.

Josh wasn't as rabid to drive as Ashley, but he finally decided to get his driver's permit a couple of months before his 16th birthday. His motivation was peer pressure, well, actually it was more of Mom-and-Dad pressure - the sooner he drove, the sooner he could help transport his younger siblings.

There were a handful of times that Ashley allowed Josh to drive her car around an empty parking lot, but when she tossed her keys to him and told him to back her car out of the garage, I got a bad feeling. I held my mouth and waited for the lesson to be learned. Sure 'nuff, there was a loud 'pop' as the passenger side mirror fell to the garage floor.

Since then, she has been the Union General - hyper-focused on giving him driving advice. They sound like an old married couple. For example, after 8 year-old Jake's soccer game one recent Saturday, all six of us headed to the parking lot to go home.

"I'm driving."

Ashley moaned, "No way am I riding with him driving all the way home. Do you see how far away we are? And look at those clouds! It's going to storm on us. I'm riding with Daddy."

"Please do," Josh sniped.

Daddy replied, "You can't. I'm stopping at the store to get a what-cha-ma-call-it for the do-hickey that goes in the thingamajig. And besides, you'll drive me crazy."

Ashley grunted, and I swallowed hard and forced a smile at the joy of having all four younguns in the car for the ride home. Oh happy day. For good measure, I said, "Ashley, it'll be okay, he's got to learn to drive just like you did, honey."

"He can't drive right!" she protested.

"Neither could you!" and I went on to remind her of all those times my face print appeared on the inside of the windshield when she tapped the brakes a wee bit too hard.

Preparing to drive, Josh slipped his muddy soccer shoes under his seat and pulled on his seatbelt.

"Put your shoes on, it's illegal to drive barefoot in Alabama," she reprimanded. From the backseat, 13 year-old brother Nick asked, "And how would you know that?"

Josh answered, "No, it's not illegal. Coach Willie said that you drive better when you're barefoot."

I buried my face in my hands as Ashley argued, "Coach Willie? Like he'd know. It's illegal to drive barefoot. I know."

"I'm not barefooted, I have on socks."

"You're both full of crap," I added for good measure.

Continuing to lecture, Ashley advised, "Hey, it looks like it might rain. Turn on the lights. You do know how to do that, don't you?"

I rubbed my temples as all five of us sat expectantly in my car. After a minute, Ashley reminded Josh, "You can turn the car on now."

Raising my head, I saw Josh grinning at the steering wheel and heard Nick giggling from the back.

"Josh!"

Josh finally started the car and began to back the car out. Again, Ashley, in her quest to be helpful, directed, "Take off the emergency brake, gosh how stupid are you?"

Josh quickly released the emergency brake and put the car in park. Great, here we go again.

Groaning, Ashley said, "Are we just going to sit here? Let's go!"

We sat long enough for Josh to torture his sister, and then he ultimately backed out slowly, heading toward the main highway. For the next ten minutes or so, the radio softly played while Ashley instructed her student.

"Slow down! You're going to get a ticket!"

"You're too close to the right side of the road. No, go to your LEFT not your RIGHT!"

"Why do you ride up behind someone really fast and then slam on your brakes?"

"Josh!"

"Ya think you're close enough to the side of the road? Geesh."

"Whoa, whoa - there's a car, you're too close to the left side of the road!"

"Josh!"

"It's raining, pull over."

"I bet you don't know how to turn on the wipers, do you?"

"Oh. My. God. You almost hit that truck."

"Josh!"

"You're gonna kills us all."

For the first time, from deep in the back of the car, Jake suddenly remembered, "I saw my friend Anna today. She's in my class and likes to eat Play Dough."

We considered this tidbit of information and not far in the distance, the traffic light changed from yellow to red. "There's a red light - SLOW DOWN!"

I have to admit, I admired Josh's passive-aggressive ability to ignore his sister's incessant criticism of his driving talent. This quaint trip home cost me a couple of fingernails, indigestion, and the beginnings of a lovely headache.

"Josh!"

"You are too close to that car. Look, you need to stay back further - Remember? Two seconds, one Mississippi, two Mississippi ... understand?"

"Here's a stop sign. You need to stop, put your foot on the brakes and STOP!"

"Slow down! Do you want us all to die?"

"That truck isn't going very fast. SLOW DOWN!"

Unable to contain myself any longer, I pleaded, "Ashley honey, please calm down."

"All I want is for him to do well ... and for me not to die," she explained.

Josh shot me a grin as I prayed for a ceasefire between my Rebel son and his opposite-minded, yet helpful Union enforcer sister. There was silence for almost a minute until a wail from the rear of the car pierced the center of my brain. Everything erupted at once.

"Nick stoled my book!"

"Did not!"

"Josh! Put on your blinker!"

"Momma!"

"Shut up!"

"Josh!"

"Stop it, stupid."

"Aaaahhhhh!"

Okay, that last scream was mine. To my amazement, Josh continued to grin and calmly drive on. We were mere minutes from home and time for me to formulate a peace treaty. To Ashley, I tenderly recommended, "Sweetie, if you don't hush for the next five minutes, I'll have your tongue surgically removed - our deductible is met so it would be a free procedure."

To the two in the back, I said, "If either of y'all touch the other for the rest of the drive home, I will permanently replace all your video games with Teletubbie and Barney videos."

Last, to Josh, I told him, "When we arrive home, you will carefully park my Suburban in our garage and without sitting idle, fidgeting with the radio, blinkers, or your nose, you'll immediately turn the vehicle off. Good boy."

And so peace was achieved until later that day when my hubby prepared to visit the grocery store.

"I'm driving."

Stay tuned for more SouthernAngel's crazy stories!