"DIPDIPDIPDIPDIPDIPDIPDIPDIP!"
I've gotten use to this statement.
I'm promptly tackled onto the couch. My sister is on top of me, her hair dangling in my face.
"Guess what I got?" she asks me. She doesn't give me time to respond before she says "My DRIVER'S PERMIT! I can drive everywhere and anywhere I wanna go now-with an adult. YAHOOEY!"
"That's awesome, Mabel!" I say. My enthusiastic sister bounces into the kitchen to tell our parents and I'm struck with the harsh reality that I don't have mine.
Three tries, it took me. Three tries, and I didn't pass one of them. 'You're too paranoid.' 'You drive like my grandma.' 'You need to go the speed limit and not 20 miles under it.'
The teacher HATED me. I swear. And now, I can't retake mine for six months while my SISTER, of all people, can drive.
Has the world truly come to a point where MABEL can cruise the road and I can't?