Chariot Of Fire

My eldest daughter received her driver's license last week. I am thrilled. Throughout the time she was practicing, she insisted on using her father's car.  Apparently my van was too dirty - true, it is hard to keep it clean, when I'm making 2 trips a day to the barn; too smelly - also true, all the riding gear is stowed in the back and the vehicle is constantly permeated with the pungent odour of horse sweat and sheep shit. Nor did she like the dents - I have yet to get the repairs completed from when I picked the fight with the bulldozer, and finally the real reason for her preference for her father's car over my vehicle - driving a minivan just isn't cool.

This mentality changed abruptly as soon as she had her new licence in her hot little hand.  I received a call from her as she stood in line at the licence office. "Hi mum, can I borrow the van when I get home?". "I thought you didn't like my van, in fact you were very rude about it". I wasn't about to let her off that easily. It would appear, now she has given it some thought, she realizes that if she holds out for Rob to get home with his car,  her freedom will be severely curtailed. No spontaneous trips to the mall, no impromptu visits to Tim's, or horror of horrors no lunch at McDonalds with Zach.

So in the span of a few short minutes, my van has gone from being the "Disgusting Barn Mobile" to a veritable "Chariot Of Fire". On the plus side, she is now so desperate to drive, that she is willing to do almost anything for the privilege. My previously grey hairs that she took great delight in pointing out, have suddenly become "blonde highlights", and whereas before a joke would be met with an eye roll, it she now finds it side splittingly funny.  Does she think I'm really that gullible?. Either way, I have big plans for her this summer.  I haven't wielded this much power since she was in diapers.