I arrived at Flight School yesterday. The classroom lesson absolutely flew by. I was feeling rather confident about flying. Going up in the airplane, a XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX, was an experience both exhilarating and terrifying. After we'd gone a short distance, the instructor, XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX told me to be ready to take the controls.
Well, father, I believe a quote from the bible eloquently describes what happened today - "pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall."
The instructor gave me control of the plane, and quicker than I could think, I lost control of the plane and put it directly into the trees. The classroom lesson may have flown by, but my plane sure didn't.
My instructor and I were both very fortunate not to be badly injured; a few bumps and bruises, a few stitches in my forehead, and feeling a tad shaken, but otherwise well. The plane was little more than a pile of scrap though. To say my instructor was not pleased would be quite the understatement. I suspect I may now hold the school's record for the fastest flight into terrain. When I said I wanted to make a name for myself as a pilot, this is not quite what I had in mind. I know you will be disappointed, and I am truly sorry for that.
I think we can both agree that mother need not hear about the crash. Perhaps it would be wise only to tell her that flying is trickier than I had expected?