……. and it’s happened.
Mr16 now owns a car. His very first set of wheels, financed through working weekends at the local supermarket. And yes, with a few top-up bucks thrown in by his father and me too.
How am I feeling about this?
Unsure actually… and certainly that’s normal.
I’m positively delighted for him and LOVE seeing his happiness, boy he’s excited and proud of himself. With good reason. He’s worked hard for almost 3 years to self-fund most of the dollars for this neat looking little Hyundai. I’m super thrilled once he’s a P-plater the 7am Saturday and Sunday morning starts will be taken care of and I can languish in bed a bit longer. There’s also the excitement of knowing my lift to and from the end of year staff party will be looked after…. he owes me, right?
On the other hand, as there always is, I’m petrified.
Scared of teenage exuberance and inexperience when on the road by himself, or worse, with his mates. Terrified of trucks and larger vehicles intimidating a little white 2-door sedan. Things ultimately beyond my control but which will no doubt cause me many sleepless nights, just as when he was newborn.
As our kids mature, we grow too. Indeed, the parenting journey is unending, it just meanders through different stages. 1st car ownership being one of them.
At least he’s found something reliable, quite economical and in very good pre-loved nick. The fact he can hide in the boot if he wants is just a bonus I guess!
How close are you to the first car stage? Are you nervous?