Mullis: Retiring the kiddie-cab after 15 years

Nicole L.V. Mullis

For the Enquirer

I remember when my oldest got her license. I didn’t let her drive alone for nearly three months.

I blamed the snow, but the truth was I couldn’t handle the idea that my kid would be alone in a two-ton death machine she barely knew how to handle. Every time she bopped to the driveway with her purse and heavily decorated key chain, I would get a lump in my throat.

Then, I would get in the passenger seat.

At that time, my friend, whose children were driving, encouraged me to let go. She told me I would have time I never thought was possible because my child could drive herself and her siblings to school and practice.

I liked the idea. Being a kiddie-cab driver was one of my least favorite parenting tasks, topped only by cleaning open wounds, toilet training, and junior high. Skipping the high school parking lot or the elementary school pick-up line sounded amazing. And I was tired of working out of my car between pickups.

Although my new driver could only have one non-related passenger, she could legally cart around as many family members as the car could hold. But did I really want all my biological eggs in one high-deductible basket?

What if she got distracted? What if she misjudged that left turn at Morgan Road? What if…?

Finally, I ran out of excuses. We picked a day, she left the house, and I stayed out of it. Well, I did watch her drive away from the window. I thought I was standing far enough back, but she looked up and waved.

Ten minutes later, I felt a sense of calm. Twenty minutes later, she texted her safe arrival – a victory for us both.

I waited for the free time to pour in, but that didn’t happen.

Sure, I had one less kid to drive, but there was still two more and they were only getting older and more involved. I needn’t have worried about her driving her siblings because she was rarely able to do so. Her schedule never matched up to their schedules. And she had one of our cars.

Long story short, I wasn’t just driving a kiddie-cab, I was running a kiddie-cab depot.

When my son got his license, I had two kids who wanted to drive the same car, at the same time, to two different places, neither of which were anywhere near their baby sister’s practice.

My youngest is an athlete, a musician, and an activist. As she has gotten older, her commitments have gotten more intense. I spend a lot of time having awkward conversations with coaches and directors about why she can’t be here or there, after which I drive her there or here.

She could keep a fleet of kiddie-cabs in business.

My husband and I enrolled her in driving lessons as soon as it was legal to do so. We had her drive to her practices as much as time allowed. We had her driving test done before her 16th birthday. The day after her 16th birthday, I took her to the DMV and then to volleyball practice, working in my car until we could go home.

It was band practice that afternoon when my baby drove alone for the first time. I did look out the window and she did wave, but I wasn’t nervous. I was triumphant.

The following week felt strange. I was working from my desk, not the dashboard. It felt wonderful.

My friend, whose children now have children, told me I would miss driving the kiddie-cab.

Perhaps. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and that may apply to a school pickup line, but right now, I’m enjoying my retirement.

Nicole L.V. Mullis is the author of “A Teacher Named Faith.” You can reach her at nlvm.columns@gmail.com or www.NicoleLVMullis.com.