- The hospital says no kid can be sent home unless you have an approved car seat. You make sure the car seat is installed properly. You make sure the tension in the restraining seat belts wouldn’t give a quarter inch in an 9.7 earthquake. The kid sits in a rear-facing seat in the back of the car. You break your back putting him in, taking him out. You get an aerobic workout removing or installing the seat. Often you rig up a set of mirrors so you can see that the kid is sleeping. Often you buy a set of neck supports so the little darling’s head can’t swivel, like a NASCAR driver. You drive slow, you listen to Baby Einstein crap on the stereo.
- The kid sits in a front-facing car seat in the back of the car. You nearly crash while watching him sleep in your rearview mirror. He is quite cute during the ten minutes he sleeps.
- He gets a “children’s” car seat, not an infant’s. It is soon filled with crumbled cheerios and sticky apple juice. You can never truly clean the car seat, but you try.
- The kid sits on a booster seat in the back of the car. It is a breeze to install and take out. It is easy to get him in and out.
- The kid learns to get in and out of the booster seat without your help. Your back is getting better.
- NO CHILD SEAT. He can get in and out of the back of the car, working his own buckle. Your life is looking up.
- The kid can sit in the front with you. You enjoy the company. You lose the ability to listen to anything you want on the radio.
- The kid gets a learner’s permit. You get an aerobic workout hitting your imaginary brakes. He always drives. He always wants to drive. He offers to take you on errands, you feel loved.
- The kid gets a license. Now he is only partly a kid, and partly a real grown up. You don’t see him much.
- Years go by, sometimes he drives, sometimes you drive.
- It’s getting harder for you to drive, first it is at night, then it is during the day. The kid drives all the time you are together.
- The kid sells your car, and drives you to the store and to doctor’s appointments.
- You stop going out. He comes and visits. Hopefully.
- You know how this ends, right? Separate cars, one’s a limo, one’s a hearse. Nobody is driving. You are both strapped in. He can unstrap. He makes sure his kids get a little extra attention…From what I have heard, you get a chance to keep on eye on them all….I hope.