My daughter got her driver’s permit in January and she has been driving every chance she gets. She is increasing in skill and confidence as she learns to navigate the roads and traffic in all sorts of differing conditions: in rain, in rush hour, with backseat drivers, with THREE! backseat drivers and recently she showed she could maintain good control of the car while mostly incapacitated by helpless uncontrollable laughter.

A few Fridays ago she was driving us home from an outing. We had been out for several hours, we hadn’t eaten lunch yet and both of us were a little stretched. We were driving on a major thoroughfare in Southern California, waiting in a line of cars at a traffic signal, when my daughter looked down at her feet and inquired, “What is that little pedal up in the right corner?”

“What little pedal?” I thought. She was driving MY car and I have never seen a “little pedal” in the upper right corner of the driver’s side floor. From my perspective in the front passenger seat that Friday, I still couldn’t see any little pedal. I had no idea what she was seeing or asking about. As my mind raced to somehow answer her question, the traffic light changed and the cars around us started moving. Still befuddled, I said, “Don’t worry about it…just GO!”

So she did. As the car moved forward, she realized what the little pedal was for: it was the gas pedal! Whaaaat?

Oh my! Somehow she maintained control of the car. We glanced at one another and broke into peal upon peal of laughter. It was the kind of laughter that augments itself upon itself: the kind of laughter that begs a space to breath: the kind of laughter that continuously explodes and does not abate. And we drove: city blocks of tearful, gasping hilarity: perfectly demanding but thoroughly enjoyable.

These were extreme and unusual driving conditions: a memorable experience. I gladly share it with you and I happily tuck it into my record of special memories.