Backseat Drivers

Ya know… Parenting is at least 40% guesswork. And at least half of those guesses will be wrong, by my reckoning. So if you fail every single test, which you won’t, the worst you end up with is 80% success. That’s a solid B- and that’s a grade I can live with. You do the best you can and you teach them at every opportunity and you sorta just hope for the best, right?

Take car rides, for example. Green means go. That’s a stop sign. Can you show me the arrow? Let’s dance to music! It all sounds like a good idea, but this plan definitely falls into the 20% margin of error because all you’re really doing is creating tiny backseat drivers who sit close enough to pelt your head with moist goldfish crackers.

Boogie’s new favorite thing to do is shout, “Mama, you DRIVE!” anytime the car stops. He’s also a pudgy little parrot on meth, so he repeats the same sentence continuously until either the light turns green or the car in front of us moves. Pook only likes right turns, which is her side of the car, and believe me: I wish that were an exaggeration. Today, we had to stop at a red light en route to dropping the boys off at school. Boogie insists I drive immediately and Pook is frantically gesturing to the right. The light turns and we move left and she bursts into furious sobs because I’m going the wrong way.

I’d also like to point out that music is not always a good idea. Boogie loves the song I Like To Move It (as he calls it, Yike To Moob It) and chants the title until I finally lose my final drop of sanity and play the damn song for the 572nd time just to make it stop. Pook tolerates this song, but really only wants the Gummy Bear Song, so it’s a two song loop that lasts precisely 6 minutes and 33 seconds. School dropoff for the boys takes about 25 minutes. Music is overrated. Silence, however, is not.

I wish I were making this all up for effect. Sadly, it’s my actual real life and I paid good money to go this nuts on the daily.