At long last, it’s that time of year
for the family winter road trip.
Dad puts the car into drive,
We’re ready to feel alive,
as we make our way south, to Florida!
Every year we take this route
down highway twenty-three.
Dad will drive the whole way, without a doubt,
but I do wish it could be me.
Because, what better way is there to show that I’m an adult?
This will be the year that I’ll show
how responsible I am.
Maybe drive through Ohio
and not have to sit next to cousin Sam.
But, if it’s like every other year, Dad will stay at the helm.
It’s called the Dad complex.
Wanting your child to always stay a kid.
It makes a Dad feel young and helps him not look at what’s next,
a sure to be blindsiding bid,
at becoming undeniably an old man.
Not driving the car means Dad is passing off the throne;
saying that his child can be trusted,
saying that his child is all grown.
When it’s time for the seating to be adjusted,
I am moved to the front and given the driver’s seat.
Dad has entrusted me the wheel.
I won’t let him down and I accept the responsibility of this deal.
By: Brendan Schultz