Because no one ever dies in one of those…
I only have one cat right now. I used to have three, but Papa Tiger is more of a dog person, so once we got married we’ve gradually shifted over to dogs. Not that I don’t love my Idiots thoroughly, but they are a lot more work than cats. Which actually is a good thing when it keeps me from imposing the same amount of energy on my grown kids. 
I can honestly say that when I moved out of their house, at the ripe old age of 22, my parents have never once suggested what I can and can’t do, or stated to me what they worried about; I was an adult and treated accordingly.
I intend to follow suit with my kids.
When I was in my late teens I worked at Wendy’s, often on the closing shift which meant I would get off work between 12-2am depending on how the night had gone. I would sometimes go with co-workers to the truck stop across the street for a coffee after so we could unwind before going home.
My parents were absolutely convinced that one of my co-workers spouses would beat me or perhaps kill me for having an after-work coffee with their spouse. Never mind that I knew and was friends with the one they worried about in particular, or that he sometimes joined us and knew full well we were there. Of course, never mind that I’m gay and the woman I often did coffee with was in her 40’s. They waited up for me one night to express their concern and that was the night my dad famously told me I would be dead before I turned 25.
I have a nice size car. I mean, the same thing could happen on a bike, or to a pedestrian. Or to me in my nice size car. Granted, the danger on the scooter is that I’m going much faster than the bike or the pedestrian. I’m also wearing more protective gear, not that that necessarily matters.
I’m just saying that what would be a minor fender-bender in your car could be potentially fatal to you had you been on your scooter. What would only cost you a few bucks out-of-pocket for you insurance deductible were you rear ended in your car, could cost you days or weeks in the hospital with months or years of rehabilitation should you have chosen to ride the scooter that day. It has nothing to do with you or your protective gear or your driving skills and everything to do with the armies of moronic, self-absorbed, distracted, crappy drivers out there. You are taking your life in your hands every time you get out on the road whether you are riding a moped or driving a tractor-trailer rig and the only mitigating factor that you can control is how much steel and airbags you can put between your self and the momentum of the other drivers.
Are you perchance Zsofia’s mom, UncleRojelio? :dubious:
No, but my daughter is now 16 and has started making noises about getting a driver’s license so I’m practicing. How am I doing so far?
You’re doing an excellent job. Not that it will make the slightest difference where your daughter is concerned, mind you. Welcome to the real world.
This I am discovering. I just keep telling myself that being headstrong and stubborn are important, valuable, and desirable traits in the long term. If that is true, then she is all set for life.
:eek: :eek: :eek: Right… let’s put everybody in bigger vehicles. That’ll make us all more safe! :smack:
Or we could all drive smaller vehicles. Or we could all walk.
Well, let it begin with me. I got a smaller vehicle… with two wheels.
Don’t forget your clean underwear then.
[Bill Cosby]Here comes a truck, gonna hit you. Now whether or not you hit the truck, you are going to have soiled underwear. Cause first you say it, then you do it! [/BC] 
Well, maybe you should be. Impress your friends, see the world…
Actually, maybe I should. Just need to find someone to teach me. That is one thing I am not learning from a book.
I can’t help it if I worry. I saw the things you tried when you were growing up: Falling out of trees and breaking an arm? Check. Crashing a bike and chipping teeth? Check. Stepping on broken glass? Check. Being bucked off horses? Check. Being completely oblivious in parking lots and walking in front of moving cars? Check. Falling off a three-wheeler and getting your head run over? Check.
Then you grow up and roll a car with no license and no insurance. Fortunately, you did learn to use a seat belt, and only broke a finger, and the cop let you go.
Queen Bruin, I’m looking at you!
You got your license and insurance, and a safer car. I felt a little better. So I try not to think about it, but it’s not easy. I still worry, but I try not to say much. You’re just being who you are, and part of you needs to ride a motorcycle.
So drive safely, Zsofia, and Queen Bruin! Wear your helmets, and watch out for people who don’t watch out for those on two wheels. Go slow on gravel.
And wear clean underwear.
That’s the thing - I never did none of that stuff as a kid! I’ve never broken a bone, never gotten stitches, never gone to the ER. I guess she didn’t get it out of her system back then.
My mom leaves me alone about stuff like that. But my husband… He is certain that the instant I get in my car to drive to work some insane person is going to run me down on the highway. He’s not possessive or controlling, just a little over protective and a worry wort.