Back Seat Drivers

I have a little secret to tell all of you.

Last week, while backing out of the garage (slightly more quickly than I probably should have been), I somehow came a wee bit too close to the side of the garage door. We heard a terrific crash, followed by the sound of breaking glass, followed by the sound of Erin verbalizing her favorite phrase, "Uh Oh". I quickly put the still-very-new van into park, and ran around to see what had happened. The side-view mirror was torn off the car, and pieces of broken glass and plastic lay strewn around the driveway.

The girls were fascinated. "Did you crash the car, Mommy? Did we have a crash? Wow, wait until Daddy sees this! Woah, Daddy won't believe it. Will the police come? Maybe we should call the police. Did you call the police, Mommy?"

After quickly securing the flopping remnants of the mirror to the car with some masking tape (the only tape I could find in Dan's workbench) we headed back out to drop Beth off at school. After returning to the house later that morning I immediately called the garage to see if they could fix it. Two days and $100 later it was as good as new.

But now, I am blessed with two little backseat drivers that watch my every move. I now back out of the garage to the tune of "Oooh, watch out, Mommy. Do you see that the door is really close? Slow down, now. Oh, yeah! You did it, Mommy! You didn't crash the car this time!"

And as we drive down the street... "Mommy, are we going too fast? Check that clock near the steering wheel, Mommy. I think it will say that we're going too fast. Oops, watch out for that big tree on the sidewalk there. We don't want to hit that other mirror up there."

I think that I will have to put up with this for quite some time. They don't seem to be easing up at all with their commentaries.

That's okay. Only 12 more years until Beth gets behind the wheel. Then, it will be my turn to be the backseat driver.