Forget about Miss Daisy !  I, too have myself a driver.  Or at least I did over the Fourth of July weekend.  My fifteen year old nephew Matthew got his driving permit.  Never mind the fact that the boy announced his arrival to Easter brunch by pulling his mother's car into the middle of my front yard.  That was quickly forgotten as I settled myself into the passenger seat.  Having a "driver" frees me up to drink coffee, return text messages and turn around to monitor the bickering in the back row without breaking the law or chancing harm to anyone.  Granted, I still needed to keep my eye on the road, especially the winding, tree covered Northern Michigan roads, but that was  just fine.  I can't think of a time when I've been happier sitting in the passenger seat. When we arrived in town I shared with Matthew the secret to parallel parking my very large Suburban. Drive around until you find a spot on the end and gracefully slide right into it.  While my husband makes fun of me, Matthew loved the strategy, quickly adding successful parallel parking to his driving resume. A boy after my own heart !