She Drives (Or She Will Drive)

I watched her walk away from me and considered her height, her curves, her blonde hair, and her stride (which is very much like that of her father's). I listened as she softly answered the DMV employees questions and marvelled, "What a soft, gentle voice she has." Could this possibly be the same child whose screams could curdle your blood and make her father run for his shot gun?

I waited as she took the permit test for her drivers licsence. I prayed she'd pass. I'd promised a Starbucks if she passed. I really, really, really wanted her to pass - mainly because I didn't want to go back to DMV any time soon.

Then the skies opened, the birds sang, and she smiled that beautiful smile of hers.

She passed.

Be warned.