Well, after a break of maybe four years (and my license expired), I drove the car again. Got a call from The Dude saying Buddy's bike had broken down on their way to soccer practice and could I drive down to where they were with a screwdriver. After trying to think of all the different ways they could possibly manage without my doing it, I got the Goo dressed, found my keys, grabbed the tool kit, screwdrivers, and diaper bag and headed to the garage.
I don't think I have ever been more freaked out in my life.
And then I just did one thing at a time. Turned on the light in the garage. Got Goo in the car seat. Put the other stuff in the front seat. Sat down. Adjusted the seat and the rearview mirror. Put on my seat belt. Checked the emergency brake. Turned on the car (keeping it in park) and tried out the pedals to remind myself which was which. Opened the garage door. Put the car in reverse and backed out into the alley. Closed the garage door. Drove the 3/4 mile to where the boys were waiting for me on the side of the road.
And then after they fixed the bike, I loaded up the car with tools and toddler again and drove back home. They continued to soccer.
And you know what?
It felt good.
It really does come back to you. Just like "riding a bike" (something else I don't want to do in Chicago but with more reason, I think).
I can't wait to get re-licensed and be officially (ahem, legally) on the road again.