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Back Seat Driver

Someone’s ready for his driver’s permit! He couldn’t pass the written test at this point, but he’s verbally got the rules of the road down pretty well.

“Mommy,” he’ll say as we turn into a parking spot, “you forgot to turn your turn signal on.”

Or how about: “Mommy, are you driving too fast?” Or, “Mommy, why are you driving so slow?” Or, “Are we in the left lane?” Or “Mommy! That man just ran a red light!” Or my personal favorite, “Mommy, if you drive too fast, the police man will stop you and put you in jail!” That last bit is stated with particular relish.

Everything, and I do mean everything, I, Matt, or the grandparents do in the car is subject to Simon’s questioning, commentary, and frequent disapproval. It’s like having a cop in the car with you. I mean, as a family we rail against those who speed, run red lights, or don’t use their signals. But honestly, if we are alone on our street or alone in a giant parking lot, we don’t always signal our intentions to the non-existent cars around us.

Fortunately, Simon is balancing out his annoying back-seat driver tendencies with helpful navigational abilities.

“Is this Graf drive?

“Are we turning right on Spring?

“This is Maryland Avenue. Here’s where I go crazy on my trike.

“Are we getting off on Taylorsville Road?

“Here comes the tunnel!”

At this stage, all of this back-seat driving is much more endearing than irritating. Also, I can’t wait to remind him of his own nagging when he’s got his permit and it’s me or Matt doing color commentary from the passenger side.

One Response to “Back Seat Driver”

  1. Amanda says:

    Paybacks are a bitch!

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