We were running late to Gertrude's science fair. That doesn't excuse Goober for driving like a manic bat from you know where, especially on the winding back roads here in the Primordial Forrest. But it seemed to be the option we were operating on. I try not to say much but I don't like being in the passenger seat when the driver is agitated in any way. Particularly when I know the driver has had more accidents than I care to think about...like five in the 16 years I've known him.
I just try to sit calmly...and not be a back seat driver.
But this night, there were two pick ups on the highway in front of us, one of them was weaving back and forth across the lanes, over onto the shoulder one minute and crossing the center line the next. The truck between our car and the seemingly drunken driver in the old green pickup managed to pass...and as we got closer, I could see that there was only a head visible in the passenger seat. Sure enough, when we passed, the "impaired" driver was impaired by his age. He couldn't have been more than 9 or 10.
Gertrude was aghast that a kid younger than her was driving.
I know that the papaw let different ones of the grandchildren drive. I even know that on at least one occasion, he allowed one of the uncles drive him home from the Kaserne to the housing area in Germany. But, it wasn't on heavily travelled main roads, in an area where speeding is the order of the day, with literally no one driving the posted limit of 45 and so many blind curves that the truck was in danger of being rear ended at any time.