The Defensive Driving Course

The Defensive Driving Course

On a summer night not long ago, Dave played “Super Dad” and took both Jack and Delaney to the Field Museum to sleep with the Dinosaurs. As the largest Dinosaur is named “Sue”, I found it oddly appropriate that they could sleep under my namesake, and I could wish them sweet dreams from afar. Bliss – one kid for one night, how rough is my life?
In keeping Max entertained with all things train-related, I planned a special excursion to the suburbs to have dinner at none other than the “Choo Choo Restaurant.” Yes, you heard right, a restaurant dedicated to train enthusiasts everywhere. They actually send your food to you, from the kitchen, on a specially modified Lionel Train that magically stops where you are sitting so you too, can have some ‘train food.’ Max was in pure heaven, a four-year old’s fantasy come true.

After dinner, I looked forward to a leisurely ride home back to the city (if I could actually navigate my car home), a little R&R with Max before the tornado of the others came barreling through the home. “Max, let’s go down Dempster home, I think the Kennedy is going to be a little heavy with traffic.” “Okay, mommy, whatever, can we back to the Choo Choo restaurant?” “No, we were just there, and you know that the suburbs give mommy the hives.” “Mommy, what’s the noise behind us?” “I have no idea what you are talking about, what noise?” “You know, the siren mommy, with the lights on?” S***, you’ve got to be kidding me, I’m getting pulled over? For what?

“Miss, do you know why you’re getting pulled over.” “No clue officer, seriously, is my headlight out?” “No, you were going 53 in a 30.” “What, that four-lane road also known as Dempster, is only freaking 30 miles and hour.” “Umm, I live in Chicago, I have no idea where I am. I’m sure I wasn’t going that fast.” “No, you were. Can I see your license and insurance card?” “Sure…here’s my license, and…umm…let me look for my insurance card.” Crap, I have not one, not two, but three expired cards in the car. Where is the real one I need? “Miss, did you find your insurance card?” “Umm, how about a couple of expired ones? Will that work?” “No Miss, you must have a current card.” “I know it’s updated, it’s my husband’s fault. You know how men are.” “Excuse me?” “Oh, you know, Dave probably took the car and forgot to put the insurance card back in. My husband, if only you knew him.” “I’ll be right back.”

And so the agony of not having an insurance card on hand, speeding in a 30 mile an hour zone, and having Max in the car with me suddenly was giving a very large headache. “Miss, I have a few more questions to ask you.” Shoot – let’s just get this over with. “Do you realize that your license plate tags are also expired?” Crap. I cannot believe this. “I told you about my husband, right? Seriously, this is his car. You should be ticketing him, not me. All of this is his fault, even driving too fast, I’m sure of it.” “Your husband drives a mini-van as his primary vehicle?” “Why of course, my usual kid-transport car is the Mini Cooper, Dave is definitely the mini-van driver.” Ugh, this is going downhill fast. Let’s review the bidding here: 1. Excessive Speeding, 2. No Insurance card, 3. Expired License Plates.

Max is idly watching the drama unfold and suddenly asks, “Mommy, you’re in big trouble, aren’t you.” Yes, Max, I am. “Are you going to JAIL?” Yes, Max, probably. “But who will take care of me?” I think they let minors accompany their mothers in jail, I’m fairly certain of that. “Miss, you realize that I write you up for a lot of violations today.” “Yes sir, but you look all kind and nice, maybe just the speeding ticket today?” And so, with a little charm, humility, and a four-year old in the car, I was written up only for a speeding ticket. With few conditions – online-driving course if I don’t want the ticket on my record, and I have to go back to the station to retrieve my license with $75 in exact change in hand. Perfect, this day is not completely lost, I will get back downtown before 9:00 p.m. Little did I know that picking up my license would require a three-hour wait. I was like Gilligan on a tour going no where, with the endless questions at the police station by Max, “Which one is your cell mommy? Where do we sleep tonight?”

The reason I bring this story up now? Ah, that on-line defensive driving course. Four-hours of online instruction done ‘at your leisure’ in the confines of your home computer. I mean really, how bad could this be? Of course, if you are a procrastinator like me, four-leisurely hours turns into an all night cram session with a 10/31 deadline looming over me like an ill-fitting Power Ranger costume. The course starts with a pre-test to see how good of a defensive driver you actually are. “40% score. You suck, step it up a notch sister, otherwise you’ll be repeating this course.” 40%, can you believe it? Crap, now I really do have to pay attention for the final test. I need a 76% to not have to repeat the course.

After hours of endless defensive driving skills being soaked into me like a hailstorm on a rainy day, I was ready to take my final test in the hopes of passing it. I’m sure it didn’t help that I actually took the test with a glass of wine in hand (probably akin to drunk driving, but hey, they didn’t say in the rule book that I couldn’t drink while taking the test), but I was ready for day of reckoning. And the final score, a whopping 92%. Yep, I passed. Whew, because having to retake the exam would likely be as much fun as poking my eyeballs with toothpicks.
Moral of the story – have Dave do all of the driving. After all, it was his fault, right? Might as well be behind the driver’s wheel if you’re going to get blamed.
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