A Birthday Gone Wrong & Made Right

Caleb turned 16 on August 13th. Here's a little story about how the day actually went.

Caleb couldn't wait to get his license. Knowing it was important to him, we helped him double-check his driving logs, signed everything, made certain the DMV  was open that day, and arranged for Taylor to bring him to Holyoke. I made arrangements with my principal to leave school for a few minutes in order to meet him at the DMV. (Luckily, school hadn't started yet, so I had some flexibility. I ended up needing it.) 

We met at the arranged time. We filled out paperwork. Things were going well. I could feel Caleb's excitement. 

Grumpy Lady from the DMV took her clipboard outside to inspect the vehicle Caleb would be driving. We were in for a few surprises. 

Caleb had wanted to test in the Suburban, but it failed the inspection because of a blinker that blinked, but not correctly (it has 2 halves, and only half of it blinks).  No problem, I thought. I'll just have the kids run me back to school and get my car. Caleb hadn't wanted to use it, because it's a stick shift and he wanted every opportunity to pass the test, but the reality is that he drives a stick very well. So, off to school I went. 

Back at the DMV,  Grumpy Lady went back outside to inspect my car. It was missing the registration paper. (I later found that paper in my purse.)  Now we had a problem!  Taylor had only allotted a certain amount of time for her errand with Caleb. Not only was he now upset and worried about being late for football practice, but she was upset and complaining, too.  I was feeling a little frazzled and  foolish, but I was still hopeful we could get Caleb's permit. 

My hope was buoyed  when Darrell Phillips, our pump-drilling, 70-something friend & previous neighbor, pulled up in his pickup, discovered the situation, and offered to let Caleb drive his truck.  Caleb was fine with that, and Darrell started rummaging through his glove box to be sure he had the right paperwork.  Soon, we could hear him muttering to himself. He didn't have what he needed. For some reason--probably  because the kids were getting antsier,  time was getting tighter, and Caleb's birthday wish was looking like a dream-- I felt even worse. 

The kids and I re-grouped again. At moments like this, I sometimes think having one child would have been nice; everyone had input, but the comments weren't very constructive. They ranged from I have to get to practice! to I told you we need a new Suburban! to What the heck,mom, this stinks! Worst of all were the tears of frustration in Caleb's eyes. This was his birthday, and I had succeeded in ruining it. 

After a couple minutes, I voiced the thought that had been going through my mind: Maybe I could ask Stefan Betley if we could borrow his car. Maybe, just maybe, I could still be superwoman, and Caleb could still have a decent birthday. 

Back to the school I went, feeling really stupid and very humbled. My son was with me, muttering and trying not to cry and saying that his whole birthday was ruined. Maybe I wasn't Superwoman. 

At school, Stefan quickly and gladly agreed. I've rarely felt so indebted or so thankful. 

Caleb ended up passing his test, driving a borrowed stick shift.  And he was just a couple minutes late for practice. 

Here  are some pictures of his other, less complicated presents: 

Baseball photos, when he celebrated his perfect game in June.

Reading a card? Or looking at his tackle box? He's used that tackle box a ton. 

Posing with an "Okay, mom take a picture if you must" expression.