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I Have a Driver! And a Wet Butt. And Apparently, a SpongeBob Problem.

I took Savannah back to the DMV once more today. We walked in and were immediately asked, “Do you have an appointment?” I anticipated the woman telling us that they didn’t have time for any walk-ins today at which point I would jump over the desk and slap her. Or do something really horrible like make her listen to asinine insurance commercials on my phone. I might even go as far as bringing Brooklyn in so she could ask her if her tooth is any looser. Repeatedly. Hour after hour. All day. But I don’t usually resort to such acts of terrorism.

I got defensive and bit out, “Well we HAD an appointment two days ago when your computers were down, so we waited here for THREE hours. THEN we were told we could come back without an appointment, so we came back yesterday and were informed that you were too busy for walk-ins. THEN we were told we could come back any time today, so here we are. I narrowed my eyes at her, challenging, nay daring, her to send us home again.

She knew what was good for her, so she closed her mouth and issued us a number. After a long time, it was finally our turn to go outside to await the test administrator. As we sat in the van, I couldn’t keep my inner SpongeBob from surfacing.

“Before you can learn to drive, you must first learn to crawl, then you can learn to walk, and then to run. But before you can learn to walk, you must first learn to crawl. I want you to crawl! Oh yeah, and no eating in my classroom.”

Savannah joined in. “Ooh, pebble #143. Ha! You will not trip me up pebble #143!”

“Now, when the tester gets in the car and asks why the door creaks and sticks, don’t tell her it’s because your mom hit a guy on bike. Because in all fairness, I didn’t really hit him. He ran into me. He was drinking beer as he riding, for crying out loud. Just tell her that we bought the car this way.”

Savannah rolled her eyes. We sat in silence for a few moments. Then I looked around the van. “Maybe you can get extra points for having a clean car,” I suggested. I started picking up granola bar wrappers, sand-covered flip flops, empty water bottles, a banana peel, a play phone, and a pair of underwear (I don’t know.) Savannah looked around the floor, then we eyed each other dubiously. “Yeah well, they probably don’t give extra points for that anyway.”

We continued to wait our turn and my mind started wandering back to SpongeBob. “Remember, when she gets in the car, look at her and ask, ‘Floor it?’

Savannah was no longer amused. So, of course, I continued. “And if she makes you back up, make sure you say, ‘Backing up, backing up, backing up’ repeatedly while driving in reverse until you run out of gas.”

Savannah eyed me. “You watch too much SpongeBob, Mom,” she said, her voice laced with exasperation (and perhaps a trace of pity).

Finally, the tester walked over to our car and I got out of the passenger seat so she could get in. I took a seat on a step outside the DMV to wait while Savannah took the test. As soon as I sat down, I jumped back up because the door mat covering the step was soaking wet. I reached back and felt the dampness on my pants. My butt was covered in doormat sludge! I faced an entire line of cars awaiting their turns. When Savannah finished the test, I had to do some sideways crabwalk to keep my butt facing the building as I walked around to the front door so no one would see my wet butt.

Savannah suppressed a smile as she exclaimed, “I did it! I got my, what the crap are you doing, Mom? Why are you walking like that?”

“Congratulations, honey! I knew you’d do it! Now walk behind me so no one can see my wet butt.”

So now I have an official driver. That’s one down and five more to go.

Want to read more from Dawn? Get her books Because I Said So (and other tales from a less-than-perfect parent) and You’ll Lose the Baby Weight (and other lies about pregnancy and childbirth) here!

Join Dawn on Facebook because she’s far too lazy busy to update her blog everyday!

If you liked this, here are some more favorites from Dawn.

I don’t feel bed when I throw up on my dentist

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