The Drive To School

Ever since I can remember my dad has always driven me to school. The ten minute drive was nothing to me when I was younger. I’d sit back turn on the radio and enjoyed the scenery as I approached my school. I opened the door, stepped out and waved goodbye. That’s how it use to be when my dad drove me to middle school and high school. When I started college my mind was very open to everything that I was being taught. College was different from anything I ever learned in high school. Thus, causing the debates and arguments between my father and I.

I felt like I can think as an adult know. I don’t have to pretend to agree with what others believe, because I cant defend my own believes. This usually happens with my dad weekday morning. On the twenty-minute drive from his work shop to Los Angeles Valley College is another life lesson for me. It usually starts out with something that had happened to us the day before or seen something on Television. Constantly our conversations end up in arguments that lead to us being upset with one another. My father is very stubborn just as I am. We try too hard to convince each other that were are right no matter what the other says.

Not so long ago me and my dad had an argument, that to this day is still undecided whose right. My dad was talking about children as he pulled out of the drive way from his shop. He explained to me how my brother was too young to be a father, since my older brother was soon going to be a father. I heard his opinion towards starting a family too young and unprepared. As I sucked in all that he had to say, I simply replied, “I want to have twelve kids.” That’s something I had always wanted ,but never really told anyone. The debate became more intense as he battled me to prove to me that I would never be able to hold up a family that big. I know that it would be hard to do so, but believe I can. As the twenty minute drive came to an end, I slammed the door shut of my dad’s truck and went of to class in a bad mood.

As I learned from my own father that its good to listen to ones believes and once opinion. He turned his back on his own words. The next day he tried to convince me that it wasn’t even something to think of. Having a family that big wasn’t in my life line. I tried to take in what he said, but I couldn’t. This argument got worse, to good, to just confusing at one point. During our long-lasting argument I learned a few things from my dad and something’s I didn’t take in count. Such as, How much will it cost to even manage to feed the children?, Will I have to time to spend with them all if I have to work all day to maintain them?, What happens if my husband walks out on me?. All this topics my dad brought up that kept me pondering for days. I learned that believing that you can do something is great, but don’t take it to a point where its just ridiculous. He also told me how he had to raise five sibling by himself while my grandmother, his mother, had to work all day just to put food on the table. The absence of his mother took a tool on all of them. That got me thinking, I want to be with my kids not just work, What will become of my kids if I’m not always there?.

I believe that a simple argument can lead to more knowledge in life. As I sit in the passenger seat of my dad’s 2001, gray expedition, hearing the roaring sounds of the engine over my dad’s wise words. I sometimes think that he’s my own Murrie from the book, “Tuesdays With Murrie.” We bring up a topic, debate, argue, and finally leaving the argument with knowledge.

The twenty minute drive seems a lot father know, since our arguments become more interesting and deep. I still ride shot gun with my dad and I still learn from him, and sometime him from me. Yet, he still hasn’t won the war, I still want my twelve kids.