My 15 year-old son started basketball camp yesterday morning, giving us a good opportunity to practice his driving “skills.”

We left extra early, and Tad did a good job…until we arrived at the drop-off point for basketball. “Hey! Look at that!” he called out, pointing to his friend. “Kyle got a buzz cut!”

Distracted, Tad then turned off the ignition but had forgotten to put the car in park. The car lurched forward, sputtering and coughing, as if insulted.

Cheeks burning but pride intact, Tad hopped out of the car and joined Kyle, his freshly shorn friend.

A man watching this exchange turned to me and said, “Permit driver, eh?”

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