Look who has a license to drive!

My daughter got her driver’s license today.

It rained the day Emma took her first behind-the-wheel lesson, and I was a nervous wreck while I waited for her to get back home. Today is downright hot. I was still a nervous wreck, and so was Emma.

She pulled my SUV into the DMV carport and waited and waited for the evaluator to arrive. (OK, it was less than 10 minutes, but it seemed like forever.) I squeezed her hand and told her I knew she was ready. She’s become a strong driver over the past six months.

While we waited, my sister, Sandy, called. I thought I’d attempt some levity and said rather loudly, “Guess where I am? I’m at the DMV waiting for Emma to take her test!” Emma’s response? “Mom!”

My sister went on to tell me that one of her kids - she couldn’t remember which one - ran a stop sign and failed at the first attempt for a license. I decided I’d better not mention that to Emma until after she finished her exam.

When the evaluator arrived, I decided not to make a fuss, so I climbed out without saying good luck or goodbye. I hadn’t thought about protocol. What are you supposed to say? Knock em dead? Break a leg? Hardly. I’ll try to be better prepared when my son goes for his test in a few years.

I sat in the waiting area with another mom; her 16-year-old daughter had driven off on her test a few minutes before Emma.

This was this mom’s third daughter to get her license. (She, too, passed her test.) We talked about driving and the other subject weighing on parents whose kids are about to start their junior year: college.

Her daughter just started her SAT prep class. I mentioned that we’ll be looking at some schools in a few weeks. We talked for a few more minutes until her daughter arrived back. Once I was alone, I couldn’t concentrate on some reading I’d brought to pass the time. I poked my head outside and there was Emma sitting with the evaluator.

She got out of the car and walked toward me. If Emma ever takes up professional poker, her competition had best watch out. She has an amazing poker face. I couldn’t tell whether she had passed or not. No smile. Nothing.

As she drew nearer, I said: “Well? Thumbs up or thumbs down?” She smiled - finally - and shot me a thumbs up.