When my daughter was a toddler (now 39), she was in charge of shifting the 4 speed in my bench seat shovel. Yeah, no car seat, (wasn't required) but I did hand her off to a spectator when I street raced. She always had to tell her mother when we got home and then the shit hit the fan. When she was 20 I did teach her to drive a stick and she drove a Nissan SE-R Sentra for a few years.
My daughter has had many car related experiences.
She loves, and wants, my 1966 Sunbeam Tiger directly because of her first memory "driving" this car when she was very little.
One day I removed the hardtop and she drove the car standing on the drivers seat, feet between my legs, her head just over the top of the windshield, her hands on the steering wheel.
My Tiger is not slow motion friendly and I think I burned about 10,000 miles off the clutch trying to go slow and easy as we putted around the neighborhood for about 10 minutes....doing my best to let her think SHE was doing all the driving.
One other time, when she was still young...maybe around 8ys old, we took my 1977 F250 to a big church parking lot so she could drive around a little bit.
I put the seat back so she would fit between me and the steering wheel and still have a bit of seat to sit on.
I worked the pedals and made steering corrections as needed, otherwise she drove around the lot on her own.
After a bit I asked if she wanted to try to gas pedal...to which she said yes.
At first she was very dainty with it and actually did really well. I was poised and ready to take over should it be required, but she drove the truck...even from her too small stature.
We did this for about 10-15 minutes, at which point I asked is she wanted to go a little faster.
She looked at me, nodded yes, then stretched out with her right leg and nailed the gas.
This promply induced a big tire smoking burnout and me wedging my foot under the gas pedal and pulling it up.....We had a good laugh about that, as well as a little talk about when and where to do such things. Then we went home just incase we wore out our welcome in the church parking lot.
When I sold that truck years later, my kid now 13 years old, she wanted to "say goodbye" to that truck by doing a proper burnout.
We found a spot, I put her in the drivers seat, explained what to do, and she cracked off a grand tire smoker...well restrained and controlled too. Then we swapped spots and I drove home. She talks about that truck like it was a favorite pet she misses.
I have tons of these stories, and I am so very grateful I really can not express my true feelings.
I could write a book...we really have had some great fun over the years.