Everyone in my family likes to drive. My mom drives slow, and cautious, like an old lady that can’t see the road. She always worries about how much money it would cost her if she crashed. Kyle, my older brother is always driving fast and careless, yet he doesn’t always have somewhere to go. If you ask me, he’s a fish out of water driving in the suburbs.
Dad drives confidently, his truck roaring down the road like a furious dragon. And Grandma Val, so like a rebellious teenager, never wanting to be caught in the slow lane. And then there’s me. My driving falls somewhere in the middle; cautious when I need to be, but fast paced when I get behind schedule. Somehow at the end of the day, no matter where we’ve been, or what we’ve done, driving leads us home, ready to hit the road again tomorrow.