Hooray for me, because I've passed my driving test! I'm fully allowed to drive like one of those grown-ups I've been hearing about, scaring cyclists and shouting at other vehicles for getting in my way.
Four faults on the test, like a horse knocking off the top bar of a fence, only less cruel and inhumane. It was pretty straightforward, actually, but I still feel a great sense of pride in achieving what probably only half of the spotty, dim-witted 17-year-old population of this country do, and passing first time.
Now when someone says to me "And naturally you've got a full driving licence?" I can reply "Yes, naturally, wouldn't it be silly if I was a 38-year-old accountant who couldn't drive?" and we can all have a good laugh about it.
When they add "And you've got a car, of course," I'll still have to say "No, I can't afford one, but I've got a bike and the brakes still just about work."