Dad takes the wheel in family taxi

Sooner or later every parent becomes an unpaid chauffeur.

Our 12-year-old daughter, Becca, is at that age where she and her friends need a ride to the cinema.

At that age, kids don't want their parents to shepherd them into the movie theater. They just want money and a car ride.

It's a humbling experience being the drop-her-off and pick-her-up driver.

Imagine, your whole self-worth as a parent is tied to the fact that you have a driver's license and a car.

I happen to have a chauffeur's license, but there's nothing in the state driving exam that prepares you for the job of children's chauffeur.

Family conversations with Becca routinely take place now in the van as we're heading to the movie theater or to drop her off at a friend's house.

It's hard for me to imagine parenting in the horse and buggy days, but maybe the same thing happened. Certainly with today's horsepower, the journey is shorter. Conversations necessarily are shorter, too.

Becca's weekends are scheduled full of outings with friends. When my wife is out of town, as she was last weekend, I feel somewhat lost.

Joni keeps track of all the comings and goings involving our children's scheduled activities. I have trouble remembering to pick up a few groceries much less trying to keep track of all those Scouting events and other activities that can turn family weekends into seemingly constant rush hours.

As with most moms, Joni is the major taxi driver in our family, although increasingly I'm learning the necessary skill.

Naturally, 8-year-old Bailey needs more parental supervision than Becca.

As a parent, you get comfortable with accompanying your children to all those kiddie movies.

It's a little disconcerting when your child reaches that middle school age of going to the movies with their friends without a parent at their side.

Of course, Becca and her girl friends aren't interested in seeing a good western like "The Alamo." Last weekend, their movie of choice was "Mean Girls," a tale about high school angst.

That's one movie I'll skip, although I'm sure it will one day find its way onto a cable channel and I'll be forced to watch it unless I take the kids shopping.

Naturally, the job of a parent chauffeur is to drive the car without asking your child's friends too many questions.

It's not like you'll get a lot of answers anyway from 12-year-olds. At this age, they giggle a lot even when they're not telling jokes.

I do what most parents do. I glance into the rearview mirror to make sure Becca and her friends haven't lost their minds and keep driving.

And doing the driving has its advantages. You get a glimpse into the social world of your soon-to-be teenager.

I just make sure I'm buckled up for the ride.

Mark Bliss is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.