Talia passed her driving test last month, but still hadn’t driven anywhere alone. She called me while I was at a noisy restaurant and told me that she wanted to meet her friend at the movie theater.  Could she drive there alone?

I told her that that was fine with me and she said that she was a little nervous about finding her way to the theater.  Could she keep her phone on speakerphone and talk to me while she was driving?

Throughout the process of learning to drive, Talia has had an amusing habit of providing “play by play” commentary as she nervously encounters challenges: “Oh no, there’s a car coming, what do I do now?”  She spits out the words rapid-fire, talking to herself as much as she’s asking me a question.

I agreed to be her co-pilot from a distance and quickly paid my bill and left the noisy restaurant.  I started walking home, talking with her as I walked, and even saw her from a distance, taking her first wrong turn.

“Dad, what do I do now?  I’m at that busy intersection and I think I just went the wrong way!”

One thing I’ve noticed as my children have grown up – for some reason kids don’t seem to be paying attention to where they’re going nowadays as their parents ferry them from place to place.  Maybe it’s because they’re paying attention to their Gameboys and i-pods, maybe it’s because they rarely walk or ride their bikes anywhere.  My son recently asked me for driving directions to another theater in our hometown.  When I told him that it was on the corner of 4th and A Streets, he asked me where that was.  When I responded that 4th St. is the main street of the town where he has lived his entire life, he said, “I didn’t know that was the name of that street!”

Talia wasn’t really that far off course – she was just taking an alternate route.  She kept me informed of the landmarks that she was passing – “Redhill Shopping Center is on my right.  Now I’m passing Drake High School.”

We lost our connection when she unsuccessfully attempted to merge and headed down a different road, out of cell phone range. She went around in a circle until she was back on course and then called me back.

“I’m passing the theater now.  Where do I park?”

I guided her from one parking lot to a second one, but they were both full.  The DMV no longer requires that you learn to parallel park in order to pass your driving test.  I think she and I practiced parallel parking once – on a space that was long enough for three cars.

She drove around the streets near the theater – “There’s a space!  No, it’s a loading zone.  There’s another one!  No, I would have to parallel park.”

She became exasperated when pedestrians had the audacity to cross the street in front of her – “Someone’s walking right in front of the car!  I think he’s trying to get run over!”

Meanwhile I was nearing my house – we had traveled almost the same distance. It must have been a strange sight to see me laughing and shouting instructions into my phone as I walked down the sidewalk in the dark.

Finally she found a space large enough to park, but in front of a “dark and creepy park” far from the theater.  She was already late for the movie, so this one would have to do.  She parked the car and I heard the beeping sounds as she locked the door.

Safely on the tarmac, she said goodbye.  I told her to call me if she needed help for the drive home.

She arrived home safely a couple of hours later.  “Why didn’t you call? I asked.

“I know my way home, Dad,” she said.

I guess she was paying attention after all.