Would someone, somewhere, please tell my daughter she was not born with a silver spoon in her mouth? The only silver she's ever owned are the braces her daddy paid $3,000 for and the silver dollar she found in her stocking one Christmas.

Now that she has turned 16 and has a driver's permit, she thinks she should be driving a silver Firebird.

It does no good to tell her, I waited until I was 22 to own a Maverick. Nor does it help to describe the old Pinto her father drove when we were dating.

She reminds me I won't have to worry if I buy one brand new off the lot as the warranty will last a long time and if I buy her a cell phone she can let me know of any problems immediately no matter where I am.

I didn't tell her she couldn't have a car. I just told her she must get a job first. She should at least be able to pay for a thimble full of gas before she rides off into the sunset. (A silver thimble full).

The constant worry over this car deal has added some silvery gray locks to my hair but my daughter is silver-tongued and can talk me into just about anything, even the back seat of a Firebird.