Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Well, Youngest Gel (yes, Youngest) foozled her first try at getting a learner’s permit this morning.  Apparently, as she had feared, she started over-thinking the questions on the test, changed at least one right answer to a wrong one, and thus failed.

She’s pretty upset, as you might imagine.  But after all, disappointment is character-building.  So she’s got that going for her.

As for me? Well, don’t tell her I said so (yes, I’m looking at you, Middle Gel), but I’m actually rather relieved.  For some reason, Ol’ Robbo is somewhat antsier at the idea of Youngest behind the wheel than he was with her elder sisters, most likely because it still seems to me only yesterday that she was sitting in her high-chair with spaghetti sauce all over her face.

Thinking about that, I was once again reminded of the classic Basil Fawlty self-dialogue:  “Zhoom!  What was that? That was your life, mate.  Oh, that’s nice…do I get another? Sorry, mate.”

Anyhoo, I gather she’ll be eligible to take another crack at it in two weeks.