Driving us to FFF in the Bike Lane

It’s just a used car. That’s what I told myself when we bought a second vehicle, smaller than a mom-minivan and bright fire engine red in color so our 16-year-old daughter could be seen coming and going. A shiny 5-star crash rated 2016 Hyundai Elantra; a Tesla compared to the rusty blue Datsun I drove in high school. The Datsun, a veritable Flintstone-mobile with a rusted out floor spraying sleet and rain on backseat passengers, was my ticket to freedom. The Elantra was my husband’s new sporty wheels to share with four kids. With street congestion and the planet burning up, we prefer life in the bike lane, except for our daughter.

With Driver’s Ed in the rear view mirror, my carefully drafted parental contract signed, and cautious driver flying solo behind the wheel, unable to drive anyone but family per state law, we breathed a sigh of relief. The sibling carpool potential had me feeling giddy, a win-win for this taxi-driving mom!

Father’s Day baseball tournaments led us to BFE Oregon this month and in the Forced Family Fun #FFF parenting style we’ve grown accustomed to, I side tracked an extra half-hour home between games to pick up my older two children. Stealing them away from freedom left alone to their devices, I was surprised they didn’t lash out in revolt.

Surrounded by family, I was in a Pollyanna good ‘ole American baseball and apple pie mood glued to the rally on the diamond. “Sure you can drive to the Quick-E Mart for drinks,” I replied. Homerun! The team of 3^rd/4^th graders rounded the bases pulling into the lead.

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“Do you know who owns the light green Prius?” my husband interrupted my baseball hysteria. Turning around, he pointed to the car parked curbside with a dent larger than a baseball ding. “Who would park directly across from 1^st base?” I laughed before sensing his urgency like two outs at the bottom of our line-up.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! And no one saw it?” my only reply. Our daughter admittedly backed into the poorly parked Prius taking it out like a bulldozer. Dammn eco-friendly car! It’s crumpled side panel and useless driver’s door mocking that I hadn’t added her to our insurance policy yet. Meanwhile our tough Elantra of plastic sat happily without a scratch.

Happy Father’s Day, all I could utter! It could always be worse. At least I didn’t have to climb in the passenger side to drive the accordion vehicle, it’s driver’s side wedged shut, and everyone was safe. Plus, this was my chance not to strikeout as a parent.

“Does anyone own a light green Prius?” I called to the bleachers, cringing it might belong to the opposing team shouting at the umpire.

It’s only money, and judging by my daughter sobbing on the curb Face-timing her friend, the lesson was learned. Luckily the cheap-ass tin can car belonged to a teammate whose consoling parents hugged her.

Adding four children to the auto insurance policy seemed like something we should’ve considered besides college expense when choosing to birth a ball team. Our good-student discount couldn’t save us now with Prius estimates more costly than the insurance itself. No wonder I drove a Datsun in high school!

“We’ve all had a fender bender and luckily no one was hurt,” I told my daughter the next day, “You're a good driver!" I covered all the bases, adding "We decided your 6 months driving without friends starts over today.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re not gonna charge me? Why are you so nice?” Scoring points against parental suckitude, I told her to get back on that horse and drive to her violin lesson, despite her fear. 

My son won his baseball game and Father’s Day ended with friends. Turns out we earned $380 ‘cash back’ for being claim free for three years the end of May, for the first (and probably last) time ever; a silver lining in the rear end!

I just hung up with my auto insurance company. The deed is done. As parents, we are rallying FFF in the bike lane from here on out!