As a young child I spent several summers in Dalton with Aunt Rita and Uncle Jim. I was the flower girl in their wedding when I was seven. The summer when I was about 9 or 10, Uncle Jim decided I was old enough to learn to drive, so he put me behind the wheel of his pickup and turned me loose with no instructions except to drive home, and legs barely long enough to reach the pedals. Everything went OK until we came to the farm and he told me to turn in. I didn't know how to stop, and instead stepped harder on the accelerator. We ended up in the ditch instead of on the lane in to the farm. I was very embarassed, but he didn't scold me or even laugh at me, and neither one of us was hurt. I did overhear him telling his buddies about it for quite some time after that, though, and I did get some teasing throughout the rest of the summer. I never drove his pickup again after that!