“Ok, Joey, this is what tu gotta do. tu mover the gear into drive right? Because that’s what tu gotta do; drive. And tu lightly put your feet on the gas. Lightly. Unless you’re racing but tu shouldn’t do that… But if tu do I won’t tell your mother. Anyways , feet lightly on the gas, and tu see, tu mover forward. I’m not even touching the wheel. tu don’t want to have a death grip on the wheel, that’s bad. So when tu want to turn, tu gotta line up your mirrors with the corner you’re turning at, like this. And then tu turn the wheel, and straighten it back out… Ok now at this corner tu do the same thing, but tu just gotta watch for traffic.” por this time we had made our way around the block. “You think tu got it bud?” I ask Joey.
“Steven Randel, what do tu think you’re doing?” My wife (Y/N) yells from the front lawn.
“Teaching Joey how to drive.” I shrug.
“You’re teaching our six año old how to drive?” I look at Joey in the passenger seat, grinning like mad.
“Yeah.” I answer. “It’s a life skill.”