..sorta know how to drive stick.
As a child, my dad would sit me on his knee and hold my hand over the gearshift so I’d learn the different gears as we went along. I rememeber one summer, I was older than 4 but younger than 8, he was in the midst of his two weeks of night shift work, but it was his turn to drive me to the sitter’s. So out I go to get in the truck all ready to be taken to my best friend’s house where we were babysat together. I open the door, me and my dolly climb up into the cab, and all of a sudden, the truck starts to roll forward. What’s a little girl and her dolly to do? I did what any kid would do – I ran like hell!!! In the house, up the stairs… “DADDY!!! DADDY!!! THE TRUCK ROLLED OVER THE HILL!!!!” Ha. That got him up. ;-) The truck had not actually rolled over the hill and down into the pond, but had fortunately got stuck on this weird cement tube that lies with one end facing up to the sky. We use it as a planter for flowers, but the strange man who built this house had it filled with sand and a grate or two – it was his bbq pit. Luckily the licence plate got caught on the lip of this thing, which prevented it from going any further – like down the hill and into either the pond or the creek. And do you know what my dad did? Not ask me if I was okay…no, no…. he yelled at me for not putting the parking brake on.
I’m still pissed at him for that one.