FRIENDS WITH CARS

Dear Spike:

He's got long blond hair and a devilish smile. And the other day he came rolling up in a PowerWheels Jeep.

"I just got a new car," he yelled out from across the street. "Want to go for a ride?"

Suddenly, your mother says, the future flashed before her eyes. Someday, she realized, some good looking young person is going to pull up to our home in a real car, rev the engine a few times for good measure, and invite you for a ride.

But the way I see it, you've got two choices in life: You can accept the future or you can't. And either way, the future is coming — or it's not, which is really not a very good outcome. So I've come to terms with the future, and much of what it entails...

... I think.

So yes, someday you will have friends with cars. And yes, someday you too will drive.

There will be parties. And concerts. And dates.

And inevitably you'll want to wear something that I don't want you to wear.

And inevitably you'll want to do something that I don't want you to do.

I get that.

I also know that you'll not always make the decisions that I would wish for you. About all your mother and I can do about that is try our damnedest to give you the confidence, morals and support it takes to make good choices in hard situations.

And I know you will. Mostly.

As for all those other times...

... well...

... please wear your seat belt.

Love,
dad