"Slowly!" Dad yelled for the thousandth time.
It hardly took a good fifteen minutes for me to drive well. My knowledge on cars did fetch me some good results after all.
"I am going slowly dad." I said.
"Then why is the speedometer showing a sixty?" He asked pointing at the meter.
"Dad seriously! I'm not driving at ninety!" I protested.
"Listen young lady. You need to listen to me. Never cross forty!" He spoke sternly.
"Seriously dad, what is the need for riding a Lamborghini when I'm riding at a freaking forty?" I pointed and he gave me a stern look.
"I don't give a damn even if your riding the world's fastest car. You should never ever cross forty." When I'm ten I kept asking him for a bicycle but I never got one as he was damn afraid. Now he's letting me ride a car alone but my ba
