Do I have a teenager on my hands?

I try not to write too much in here about my kids, since the whole rest of my life seems to involve them as it is, but sometimes the blog and them overlap. The other day I was taking L to the dentist, and on the way there was explaining all the other errands we had to do that day so he knew in what order his appointment would come. At the end of this, he asked "are you just going to drop me off there?" What, did I hear that right? "Drop off" a 3 year old for a dentist appointment. I have never "dropped him off" anywhere, so I have no idea where that came from, unless G or I have used it for quick errands so we don't have to take the kids in somewhere. It got me thinking though, of what it'll be like in a few (quite a few) years when he's embarrassed to be seen with his parents (I hope this never happens, but I do recall being that way myself, as do most kids I think) and asked to be dropped off a block away. I'm hoping by that time our van (the same one we drive now) is really old and beat up so he can be rightfully embarrassed. If you're going to do it, at least do it right, eh?