It started out such a
beautiful day, when my dad told me to
“Hop in the car and let's go for
a ride,” so I did and he let me drive and
my heart was racing the convertible and
the intersection was approaching
so fast
I couldn't see the road before it
disappeared, and
Dad was yelling at me to
“Stop, for Christ's sake!” but my foot
was glued to the gas was glued to the
floor and sudden panic clogged my throat when
a truck drew near the intersection but
I didn't stop and it didn't stop
and my brain informed me that I was
screaming like a crazy person but, thankfully,
Dad grabbed the steering wheel and
swerved the car and on that day we didn't
Die.

Okay, so
I lied because the sky was somewhat overcast and
cloudy, but I did drive a
convertible and my head was pounding and
I reached speeds of
20 miles per hour, I promise, it was
just like a drive in the country but
there were trees everywhere instead of cows and, anyway, Dad
said in a bored way, “You drive like my mother,” and so
we argued about that
for a while when, suddenly,
a squirrel magically appeared
right in the middle of the road and
panic clogged my throat but Dad
yelled “Speed up! Floor it!” and
the neighbors were staring and I started
to scream
“We're going to die!” but
we didn't, instead
I just swerved a lot and
slammed on the brakes and Dad called me a
Loser.

Two days later he coaxed me back into the
driver's seat, but I had a
plan, see, I drove around and
acted as normal as I could,
but when another squirrel hopped out
in front of me, I blasted the
horn and shouted
obscenities,
and my dad was laughing so hard, but it
Worked.