How I’m Going to Teach My Kids to Drive (Assume Everyone Else Is an Idiot)

Driving is the most dangerous daily task. These seven driving commandments will help new drivers stay safe, avoid accidents, and keep their insurance rates low.

Feb 13, 2025
 

How I’m Going to Teach My Kids to Drive (Assume Everyone Else Is an Idiot)

Driving is, hands down, the most dangerous thing you’ll do on a daily basis. Statistically, you're more likely to get into a car accident than be struck by lightning, attacked by a shark, or win the lottery. Yet we slide behind the wheel every day like it's just another Tuesday—coffee in one hand, phone in the other, fully trusting the half-awake stranger next to us not to ruin our lives.
When my kids finally earn the right to drive the mean streets of the DMV, I'm not just handing them a set of car keys—I'm handing them a mindset. A philosophy. A full-blown defensive strategy for surviving modern American roads, which are now basically Mario Kart with more SUVs and fewer banana peels.
These are my sacred commandments of driving, forged in traffic, seasoned by near-death encounters, and backed by a solid desire to keep my insurance premiums down.

1. Stay Relaxed—Because Angry Drivers Die Young

The goal isn’t to win. The goal is to get there alive. That’s it. I’m not racing. I’m not proving a point. I’m just trying to make it to Costco with my blood pressure intact.
If some dude in a ‘97 Civic wants to reenact Fast & Furious: Route 7 Drift, I say, “Have at it, King.” I’ll ease over and give him space. No ego. I’ve got a podcast playing and a sparkling water in the cupholder. That’s the vibe.

2. Thou Shalt Always Park Backwards

Back into your spot like you’ve got a PhD in foresight. You’ll exit clean, with visibility and confidence, instead of blindly reversing into traffic like it’s a trust fall.
An insurance agent once told me:
“Back into stationary surroundings. Pull forward into moving ones.”
It’s the kind of wisdom that sounds like a fortune cookie and hits like gospel.
Also: 9% of pedestrian deaths in parking lots are from backup incidents. So yeah. Back it in.

3. Park Far Away—Your Car Will Thank You

I park like I’m allergic to door dings. I don’t care if I have to walk. That’s free cardio. Plus, nobody’s flinging a rogue cart into my side mirror out in the parking lot wilderness.
My wife hates this rule. My kids groan. But when we pass 12 people circling the front row like vultures while I’m halfway to the entrance and stress-free, it all makes sense.

4. The Left Lane Is Not a Lifestyle

The left lane is the passing lane. Not the “do 64 and vibe” lane. Not the “text your cousin about brunch” lane. You pass. Then you move over.
If someone wants to go faster—let them. Not because they deserve it, but because you deserve to live. Besides, there’s a beautiful kind of karma that happens when you move over and let Speed Racer fly past… and then a mile down the road, you see them pulled over, hazards flashing, and a state trooper tapping on the window.
That’s not just justice. That’s instant feedback that you’re doing it right.

5. Green Doesn’t Mean Safe Anymore

I used to tell myself green meant go. Not anymore.
We were halfway through an intersection—green light, no rush—when an older couple blew through their red and smashed into us. Just like that. My whole family in the car. No one seriously hurt, but the sound of that impact? That doesn't leave you.
Now, I treat every green light like a suggestion. I pause. I scan. Because the worst moment of my life was looking back and checking to see if my kids were hurt—after doing everything right.
And if you're thinking I’m being dramatic—cool.
You’ve clearly never had to check your kids for injuries in the middle of an intersection because someone else couldn’t be bothered to stop.
This isn’t paranoia. It’s survival.

6. Drive Like You’re the Only One Awake

Defensive driving isn’t just about slowing down or checking mirrors—it’s about constant awareness. You’ve gotta scan the road like it’s a chessboard. Who’s swerving? Who’s drifting? Who’s riding two lanes like it’s a buffet? Learn to anticipate the stupid before it happens.
I make a game of it.
I’ll mutter, “Look at this idiot,” as I watch someone do exactly what I expected—because they’re not thinking. They’re on auto-pilot.
And living life on auto-pilot?
That’s the same as being a zombie.

7. Adjust or Get Burned (Situational Awareness Is Everything)

Ever seen a sign telling people to merge—and instead of adjusting, half the drivers wait until the last possible second, jamming their way over like they’re entitled to it? That’s not strategy. That’s lazy thinking.
What they’re really doing is ignoring new information.
And that’s dangerous as hell.
This is something I teach my baseball players all the time: conditions change—adjust. The same play doesn’t work in every situation. Wind, base runners, pitch count—you have to take it all in and make real-time decisions. Driving’s no different.
The road is alive. Every second, new variables show up—construction, tailgaters, someone braking in front of you, someone texting behind you. If you're not adjusting, you're already behind.
Same thing with merging. Yielding doesn’t mean coming to a full stop and hoping someone lets you in. It means accelerating to match the speed of oncoming traffic so you can slide in seamlessly. Merge like you belong there. Because when you do it right, no one even notices.
And if you’ve driven for more than five minutes, you already know this move:
Turn on your blinker to merge, and suddenly the person in the next lane speeds up like it’s a race. Happened to me once—lady in a convertible Mini Cooper tried to gun it so I couldn’t get over. I backed off, let her win the “who’s more petty” contest… and five seconds later, she rear-ended the car in front of her because she didn’t notice the red light I was trying to adjust for.
As we rolled past, I cracked the window and shouted, “That’s what you get!”
A perfect moment of instant karma.
And that’s why speeding is so dangerous. It assumes nothing’s going to change. But I’ve seen firsthand how fast “routine” can flip into “wreck.”
So I’ll be teaching my kids this:
Don’t just steer the car. Read the field. Know what’s happening around you. And when the game shifts, shift with it.

The Real Lesson for My Kids

I’m not raising perfect drivers. I’m raising defensive drivers. Drivers who assume no one else knows what they’re doing. Drivers who treat every intersection like it’s a test, every other car like a question mark, and every green light like a maybe.
If they roll their eyes, that’s fine. I’ll be the dad shaking his head from the driveway. But when they avoid an accident, back into a tight spot like a pro, and glide out of the Target parking lot without a scratch—I know they’ll hear my voice in their head.
And maybe—just maybe—they’ll say, “Damn. He was right.”
"Know what’s enough. Build what matters.”