in a Citroen visa van, (van blanc) in a hauliers yard behind my dads workshops. He told me all about the clutch and the accelerator.
So I drove the van directly into the nearest wall.
As you do when you're nine years old, and no one's ever mentioned the steering wheel or the brake pedal.

Apparently the tears were coming straight out of my face, rather like the spitting image puppet of Gazza. Dad admits it was foolish to tell me how to go, but not steer or stop. IIRC the van was less than 1000 miles old. New wing, bumper, bonnet, and drivers door.
Oh I forgot. And a headlight. And indicator.