by Julia Joseph
Archbishop Wood High School
Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the my whinning saga, "Jules' Rules."
Today, I present a topic that is very real to teenagers both now and always. It is important for you, and any teen in your life, to read this because I think it is a serious subject.
Consider this your official warning: You are about to enter the complaining zone.
Last month, I received a copy of the Pennsylvania Driver's Manual. My very own copy to love, and to hug, and to name George if I wished. And of course, I need to learn a thing or two from it before I hit the road.
I might want to wait a little while.
In Pennsylvania, at age 16, a resident is eligible to obtain a permit to drive a car. So right where you live, a child is allowed to operate a two-ton speeding silver bullet.
I know somebody who can get her license after a little more practice time. She is a sweetheart, believe me, but when I say she is an airhead, I mean it more about her than anyone else. To be honest, I don't know if I would ever ride with her ----- even after the state says it's OK.
This April, I will be 16. I don't think I'm going to suddenly become more coordinated and responsible in a few months. I mean, I'm just a clumsy little kid.
I trip over the rugs, which are in the same place every day, in the school hallway. ( I would like to point out that those rugs are a death trap.) My mom still helps me pack my lunch. I watch cartoons on Saturday morning.
Plus, I'm terrible aat those driving games in the arcades.
Risking receiving hate mail from my fellow teenagers, I'll go so far as to say that maybe the age for driving should be raised. I know for a fact that I wouldn't trust myself driving the family's Chevy Tahoe.
I am an innocent child ----- and driving is a grown-up's job.
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