So the other day we were in the minivan headed to someplace undoubtedly fun and exciting when, before even getting out of the driveway, Harrison started in on one of his screaming fits. These fits usually come unannounced and it will go from silent to “my entire body is on fire” hysteria in no time.
“WHAT is the matter?” I asked, annoyed, without bothering to look back. Usually these meltdowns are rooted in dismay that an action figure dropped on the floor of the car or the sudden realization that he forgot his” most favorite toy ever” that he just found that day, although it’s been in our home for months. Sometimes it’s because his sock is twisted, and I think the best one was the time we forgot to put a bandaid on his imaginary cut.
Anyway, despite the high pitched screaming I was completely unalarmed-and unsurprised-that today’s crisis stemmed from Harrison’s water bottle “not working right”.
The rule is that if Mommy’s driving, all problems and needs must wait until the car is fully stopped in a safe location. I can say right now that if my children are going to adhere to all rules as well as they do this one, we’d better book some slots in the county jail right now. After a couple calm reminders, the screaming did not cease. I knew it was time to do something drastic. I decided it was time for Angry Mommy.
I stopped the car in the road, got out, put my mean teacher look on, opened Harrison’s door, snatched his water bottle, and threw it in the front seat. I slammed my door shut and buckled my seatbelt. For three seconds, nothing but stunned silence was heard from the back seat. “I showed him who’s boss,” I thought smugly, as I continued to drive up our dirt road. All of a sudden shrieks of laughter came gurgling up from the very depths of my children’s bellies. I was a little shocked that they were laughing at Angry Mommy, because I clearly meant business. I mean, I had even used my mean teacher look and everything. That’s when I heard it, clear as day, the whooshing of open air, my tires spinning over the gravelly road. Angry Mommy drove away without shutting Harrison’s car door.
“I love riding with my door open, Mommy! This is so fun!” I’m thinking my point was completely lost on him. I had just inadvertently given him the best car ride experience of his life.
“My door too, Mommy!” chirped Ella. Well, clearly, everyone is going to be hating their water bottles again real soon because THIS was very exciting.
So the moral of the story is, if you want to be taken seriously by your children, do NOT leave the car door open when your vehicle is moving. I’m pretty sure that might be a good rule to go by in all situations, but, hey, we’re all works in progress here.