I cannot abide a backseat driver. You know the kind—that helpful passenger who suggests when to speed up, to slow down, to watch out for this, and to be careful of that. Evidently God has decided I've some changing to do in my attitude, since He's plopped two little backseat drivers into my life to help me develop patience and understanding.
Lately, my 3-year-old daughters have been annoying me with their nonstop shrieks to "Go! Mommy! Go!" whenever I'm sitting in a long line of cars at a stoplight. I've tried the passive-aggressive approach, muttering "What do you want me to do? Smash into the car in front of us?" which doesn't faze them one bit. Then I decided to use the educational technique of explaining to them in simple terms that the red light means "Stop" and the green light means "Go." As the light changed, I over-enthusiastically sing-songed (sing-sang?) "See, girls? It's green! Time to go!"
What a mistake.
Now I am informed at ear-splitting decibels every time one of the twins spies a red or green light. It's of no concern to them that the intersection to which they refer sits 2 miles away. It could be the red flash of a semitruck's brake lights, for that matter. They're pointing out every stinkin' RED! light and GREEN! light, screaming for me to GO! or STOP! Since I didn't explain the purpose of a yellow light—speed up? slow down? it's too controversial a subject to discuss with an adult, let alone a toddler—they simply bellow ORANGE! Their noise almost made me miss the momentous occasion of my minivan's odometer flipping over to 100,000 miles.
A frazzled mother of shrieking twins driving a worn-out minivan.
Glamorous, I know.
Dinner last night: zanzibar chicken over rice, green salad, corn
Exactly one year ago today: Fun and Games