Kids With Keys

When I was "little" I couldn't imagine anything that represented being "big" more than a set of keys. I would rummage through my parents' desk drawer hoping to find stray keys that had no purpose or meaning to them and place them on my neon, magenta rabbit's foot key chain, where they would then have a wonderful purpose and meaning to me. Big keys, small keys, red keys, they filled out my chain quite impressively and I loved it. To me these keys meant POWER! Listen to them ting-a-ling!! Ahh, the joy of it all.

From my perspective not that much has changed since I was a "little T". Kids still love having keys but now it seems that the keys are actually theirs from the very beginning.

House keys worn around the neck, man that was a craze. Kids felt the first shreds of adulthood once they were given the golden (well actually, brass toned) key to the family home. Wow. It symbolized trust, maturity and manual dexterity ta-boot! Now however, children are driven to school, unable to so much as cross a street without supervision, therefore eliminating the need for that blazing symbol of coolness. Shame.

What seems to have followed is this:

Each day big sister comes to pick up her little siblings. She patiently waits while backpack, homework pages and empty lunch bags are gathered by the younger crew. During this time we chitty-chat about what her life is like being 16, and the new responsibilities of having a driver's license.

She: Man, my mother has so many things she wants me to do for her now that I can drive.
Me: Yes, it is amazing how that one piece of paper has opened up new doors for the both of you.
She: Yeah...that's why I am looking for my own car.
Me: Wow.
She: I've already test driven a few but want one that is safe, well, cuz of the little ones I have to pick up and all. And don't worry, I'll show you when I get it!

3 days later:

As I walk into the parking lot towards my '98 Mountaineer, my hands full of whatever it is that teachers seem to carry back and forth with them, I see her from the corner of my eye. With keys in hand she proudly begins jumping up and down, ready to give me the grand tour of her first car- coming with more bells and whistles than I could ever possibly remember.

I breathed in that new car smell. It was...well, magnificent.

She: Do you LOVE it?
Me: (nodding my head like a bobble doll) Yeah! They really know how to make a car over there at Range Rover.

With my key in hand, I head back to my car. Sigh...enjoy.