Light-Hearted Anecdote—The Killer Bee and the 1963 Rambler…Ah! The summer I was sixteen, I learned to drive. I remember the 105 degree Texas sun, the gravel country road, and no air-conditioner. Martha, one of my older sisters, sat bravely in the passenger seat while I navigated down the road, careful to shift gears in our old 1963 Rambler. But the peace was short-lived—in flew a bee the size of King Kong. Well, not that big, but one of those bees that must be at least an inch in diameter. I screamed and closed my eyes. My foot remained firmly on the gas pedal. My total disregard for safety flew out the window, but not the bee. I had no idea where the car was aimed. All I knew was—there was a killer bee in my car.
Fortunately my sister took control—she slid over and pushed her foot to the brake, stopping our blind ride down the road. Thankfully the bee left us at that moment.
Leave a comment on how it was for you when you learned to drive. (o: