Why I have given up teaching my daughter to drive after one lesson

Being the father of three girls, there have been many parts of parenting where I have felt less equipped than my wife. While I have always given it a try (because feminism, equal rights and parenting) when it has come to purchasing first bras, or puberty related developments, my daughters always seem to just naturally (and understandably) go to their mum.

Recently though, my eldest, *Laura turned 16 and I finally thought it was my chance to step up into pole position (even temporarily). You see, Laura was as keen to get her learners permit and start driving lessons as I was to help teach her.

So, the day after her birthday she sat the test, passed and we decided that the following day we would hit the road and start BUILDING up her 120 hours. But it seems nothing ever works out the way you plan and my dream of being a gold standard driving instructor, while simultaneously bonding with my teenage daughter, didn’t quite happen.

It probably all went wrong from the very beginning with my decision to teach Laura in our manual car because I wanted her to eventually obtain a manual driver’s licence. I knew that manuals can be tricky when you first start out, so I took Laura to a local industrial park where there were far fewer vehicles on the road and not as many road rules to consider.

Despite my best efforts though, explaining the gears to a 16-year-old was like banging my head against a brick wall.

“Stop mansplaining,” she said to me over and over as I repeated the instructions I had given her.

“Explaining,” I replied.

She rolled her eyes.

Despite my hesitation, Laura soon assured me that she understood what she needed to do, and I reluctantly agreed to let her put this into action because how else would she learn? But as soon as she went to put some of this learning into practice, she was bunny hopping and stalling like some sort of rabbit who had consumed one too many elicit carrots.

I tried everything I could to remain calm and assured her it was normal.

Then in a series of very unfortunate events we somehow bunny hopped our way out of the industrial park and into actual traffic. While everything internally was screaming “F*CK!” I took a deep breath and attempted to instruct Laura through the (nearly) literal car crash.

Unfortunately, my fake calm was transparent, and Laura freaked out. She narrowly missed crashing (or hopping) into several other cars and then as the traffic light ahead turned red, she screamed at me “which one is the brake again?”

By now Laura was crying. To be honest, I nearly was too but somehow she managed to stall into a complete stop at the red light without hitting anything or anyone.

As I let out a sigh of relief, Laura who was still crying, proceeded to get out of the car telling me in between sobs that she could no longer do this. With my daughter now on the side of the road in tears, I undid my seatbelt, climbed across the front seats, into the driver seat taking control of the wheel, then looped back and collected my inconsolable daughter from the side of the road.

This was the first and last driving lesson I will be conducting. Laura is now booked in with a professional instructor who is paid for this service. I have gone back to accepting my secondary parent status.

*The names in the article have been changed at the request of the participants

Related: Our top tips for parents of learner drivers

Related: Why I decided to get my driver’s licence in my 30s

Related: Why becoming a driving instructor might be your next dream job

Related: Why I decided to face my fear of driving a manual car