I spent much of the ride to Thanksgiving dinner with my eyes focused on my phone, my mind working to distract itself with anything besides the adventure we were undertaking.

This was, after all, the first trip “O’er the river and through the woods” with our 16-year-old behind the wheel of the car.

Having your mother white knuckled beside you is enough to shake any teenager’s confidence, and so I chose the back seat where any clenched fists would remain out of eyesight and my own eyes could be shifted away from the road ahead.

Like every other step along the parenting path, there’s no manual or preparedness training for your teenager learning to drive.

There’s the DMV guidance, sure, but knowing how to maneuver a multi-ton motor vehicle down the road at 55 miles per hour is not quite enough to keep your hands from sneaking up to your eyes when the task is done by a person who once fit within the palms of your hands.

What’s perhaps harder is explaining to your child that this feeling is not about them ... or rather it is all about them, but not about your faith in their abilities.

I know they will conquer driving as they once did walking and talking and more recently algebra and chemistry. They are smart, capable, incredibly determined.

But in doing so, they will take yet another step away from that small person who once fit between my hands and once depended on my assistance for even the most basic of tasks.

They will cross another boundary that cannot be recrossed.

And from this I’d prefer to be distracted.