I think sometimes about all of the nice little experiences that I and pretty much everyone of my generation or older had, that Sylvie will not have because of how ultra-sensitive the world has become. She'll never ride with a bunch of friends in the back of a station wagon (or a pick up!). She'll probably never feel the wind whip through her hair as she barrels down a hill on her bike, blissfully un-helmeted. And she'll certainly never get to sit on Dad's lap and steer the car as we drive through town. These days, the childhood rite of passage that inspired Springsteen's "My Hometown" could land Dad in jail and Sylvie in state custody.
So it was nice to see her get a little taste of that in Florida last week, sitting on Grampy's lap and steering the golf cart. So far as we know, that's still "legal."
Nostalgia aside, I'm in no hurry to see my daughter behind the wheel for real. That day will come sooner than I think, I'm quite sure.
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