Listen up people....this is important shit.
The Kiddo got his driver's license last week. Yesterday he received his very own vehicle in which to drive himself to school, work and all future drug deals.
If you live anywhere in the DFW area I strongly suggest you steer clear of any and all late 90's white Ford Explorers for at least six months.
My sister gave it to him because she loves him and she's a big softy and also because she apparently hates me. Because now? I pretty much spend all my waking hours worrying about him out there alone, driving his own car that has a stick shift, for pete's sake. I mean, why couldn't his first car be small and automatic and without wheels or an engine? That would feel so much safer to me and I'm sure he would have just as much fun pretend driving it while he's sitting in the driveway as he will frolicking all over who the hell knows where in this death contraption my sister gave to him.
Hold on a sec, would ya?
Okay, so maybe I'm having a teensy little problem letting him grow up. Oh how I long for the days when all I had to worry about was if the Kiddo was having safe sex. Now I have to worry about him having safe sex while driving in his new car ala The Fast & The Furious. I've never seen that movie, but it seems like the kind that would have fast manual transmission driving combined with teenage sex. Wait, maybe not teenage sex just grown up sex...because if it had teenage sex, the "furious" part would reference when the teenage boy's parents find out he knocked up his slutty girlfriend in the driver's seat of his Grandma's Buick and let's face it, there would be no "fast" because hello? he's driving a Buick.
Wait, what was I talking about again? Oh yeah, my son and his sexmobile. Good times.
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