Oh my, how the wheel turns. I remember driving in the car with my mom as an obnoxious know it all kid instructing her on how she should be driving. Never having driven a car myself I would tell her when to stop, when to go, to indicate, to not indicate, to slow down, to speed up. ALL THE TIME! It would irritate the crap out of her and usually ended up with her coming to a stop (which I would comment on) and kicking me out of the car.
And now, at the age of 39 and a half, with almost 20 years of driving under my (seat) belt I have my very own back seat driver. And yes karma is a bitch when you’ve been one. My backseat driver hasn’t even mastered a bike with training wheels and she’s telling me how to drive.
It starts off when we get to the car. I am told to put her in her chair and to strap her in, ‘so we can be safe’ a a la Dora the Explorer. And then it’s downhill from there. Should we be going somewhere Emma knows and I dare go a different route she lets her annoyance be known. Loudly.
She shouts at me when I’m at a red robot to GO! She shouts even louder when I’m going to GO FASTER and her new one is to screech in a very high pitched bee-gee type voice WATCH OUT every time she sees a car in front of me, to the left or to the right. She also screeches LOOK OUT when she sees a car any bigger than a mini ( the old ones) nearby.
Needless to say I’ve come close to sh*tting myself a few times while driving with these turret type outbursts.
So now I know how my mom felt all those years back. If I were her I would have kicked me out the car too…