We bought the boys a car Monday evening, their grandmother's lavender Taurus. The boys call it purple. Will they be traumatized for life?
The next evening, I took Ricky out to practice as he only has his driver's permit and has not had much driving time with the snow and ice. I marveled at how well he did, making corrections before I had a chance to say anything.
When we got home, he started to turn the car around and I assumed he was backing it into the WIDE spot designated for it. But no, he started backing across the parking pad. I calmly asked what he was doing and he grinned. He kept backing. I warned him about the Jeep and Vibe. He kept backing. I yelled for him to stop. He GRINNED and kept backing. I screamed for him to stop when he hit the Vibe.
He denied hitting the Vibe until I showed him lavender paint on the orange car and orange paint on the lavender car.
Later, after he went to bed, I started thinking about it and realized he was just practicing cool teenage boy moves, backing into a tight spot. Unfortunately, his car would not even fit where he was headed. Good judgement is not his strong suit. I went into his room, sat on his bed and shared with him my thoughts about how all teenage boys back into parking spots. He jumped up, gave me a bear hug and said, "You understand, Mom." We decided that backing lessons are next, using the garbage cans and not my new car.