Being a dad you have to get used to very quickly ferrying around lots of little humans in your car. Your pride and joy will no longer be the prize car on the street but will now become a functional people mover from point A to point B. In saying that I still manage to wash it and vacuum it regularly so that it looks half respectable. The tornado of food and other random objects are coming from our little girls. Recently something else has started to be thrown around the inside the cabin of our car……. Directions. Not just geographical directions but driving directions as in “why did you not stop daddy” as I sail through a round-about that we stopped at yesterday. Usually the questions or statements from the back seat of the car are around what ever is passing the windows at the time, cows, horses (we are rural) cars people birds, you get the drift. Have even spent 20 mins explaining why trucks are so big and have trailers to my girls only to finally finish and then be asked why all over again.
Last week I was asked why was I going so fast, I was doing the speed limit but Miss 3 in the back seat felt that it was a little too quick for her. When I took off from the next set of lights I put my foot down a little and was greeted with cheers from the back seat. WTF I thought… one minute I am getting scolded for driving too fast, then I am being cheered for giving our car a little stick. Its like driving with a bipolar midget. A midget that thinks she knows more about the road than I do. Coming up to a common roundabout near our place, no cars are around and I carry on through. Then it starts “why are didn’t you stop daddy? daddy? daddy? your supposed to stop daddy mummy stops there daddy” and on until we get to the next traffic interaction point where I am politely but matter of fact told that mum always turns here and I should have turned……
This weekend I decided while driving home from the shops just to humour Miss 3, I would follow her insisting directions and turn left and right on her command. We ended up on the main freeway out of town and then on a back road heading to a abandoned farm house. When I did turn around I was politely told that I was lost and that I should call mum as she would help. The cheek of her. I follow the roads back to the road on the way home and once again when we go through the main roundabout near our house I am told off for driving through it. I now pray for cars to be coming at the roundabout so I can stop, just so I don’t get berated by my 3yr old.
It doesn’t stop with the directions either. Music, Aircon, windows down, windows up, suns in my face, its too dark, I don’t want to go home…. it goes on and on. I need one of those screens that New York Cab drivers have where they can cut off the people in back seat. All the road safety ads shown on TV talk about speed and fatigue, what about the never ending driving instructions from the articulate Miss 3 in the back. What about the sailing close to the edge of insanity with the constant nagging as you manoeuvre a family car down the public roads. What about the erratic and crazy driving as you fly through traffic just to get home and get the bloody hell out of the car!!!!!! I have more than once told them to shut up because I could not take it any more, and then getting daddy guilt and going through McDonalds drive through for soft serves to make them and myself feel better. I know they don’t know better and honestly believe they are helping, I love that they try but god my ears bleed just from going to the shops, never mind when we plan a day trip somewhere. As stated in previous posts food and DVD players distract them long enough to prevent me pulling over the family car and simply walking away.
But in stark contrast, when I drive my car to work, I often look back to the empty back seat and miss the little side comments about my driving. It almost feels lonely……………..