‘So you’re just going to want to gently accelerate—’
I was thrown back in my seat as my daughter hit the pedal with more force than I knew her teenage legs could produce.
‘Slow down!’ I screeched from the passenger seat. ‘Jessica!’
She lifted her foot again, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Until she slammed it down on the brake pedal and I was thrown forward, bumping my head on the glovebox. In that moment, I decided who was going to be paying for my next brake repair.
She turned to me, grinning, as we sat idling in the middle of the empty parking lot.
‘Driving is fun!’ she giggled, as I fished my glasses from underneath my seat.
‘Okay,’ I panted, as the slideshow of my life retreated back into my soul. ‘So that was an… interesting start.’
‘It’s so easy!’ she beamed. ‘Just two whole pedals?’
‘You’re not supposed to push them fully to the floor,’ I grumbled, ‘…dear.’
‘Oh?’ she frowned. ‘Are you sure?’
I could only nod, trying to find my inner Zen through a breathing technique.
‘Alright,’ I said, through a deep breath. ‘We’re going to try that again. Now, this time—’
‘Sweet!’ she yelled, slamming her foot down again.
‘Jessica!’ I howled as we rocketed towards the speed of sound, already hearing what my mechanic was going to say next time I got my car service. Raceview mechanics don’t sugar coat these sorts of things. My hand reached for the handbrake, fighting against the G-forces.
‘Ooh, what does that do?’ Jessica asked, looking at what I was reaching for. She reached down with one hand and yanked the handbrake up, locking the tyres and sending the back of the car fishtailing around a bend in the car park.
I almost blacked out as she drifted us around, making micro-corrections with the wheel and releasing the handbrake at the apex of the turn.
‘Woo-hoo!’ she cackled as she twisted the wheel, spinning the car to a stop. ‘Driving is so much fun! Thanks again, Dad!’
I could only release a long, drawn out wheeze.