Toddler On Board

I'm thinking of getting on of those TODDLER ON BOARD signs for the car.

I've never liked them, thinking that they were a little sanctimonious, as though if you don't have a child in the car, you're fair game.

But maybe I had it wrong: maybe it was warning you that they have a toddler on board, and as such are a moving time bomb. It's a warning to you that are going to be distracted.

TODDLER ON BOARD: I'm going to be passing sweeties and biscuits over my shoulder whilst driving through traffic.

TODDLER ON BOARD: I shall be driving whilst reading a map to a soft play centre on my knees and trying to plug in the portable DVD player to GET SOME FRIKKIN PEACE for two seconds.

TODDLER ON BOARD: In the last 15 minutes I have answered 175 questions and been told 56 times that she saw a dog. If you know your Louis CK, you'll know Why?

TODDLER ON BOARD: Having tried to keep my child engaged in the boredom of car travel, I taught her what the lights mean. I now run red lights to avoid ever again hearing the words, shouted with ear splitting urgency:  Stop Daddy! Red means Stop!

Never thought of it like that, until yesterday.

Driving in Argentina is famously dangerous, and I'm not going to add to the endless discussions now. All I'm saying is that you need to keep your wits about you, at all times.

If you'd passed Leah and I yesterday, at around 3pm, you would have seen our car inexplicably swerve, nearly crashing into the ongoing traffic.

To defend myself: I wasn't on the phone, I wasn't changing a CD, or falling asleep, or checking a map, or playing Toy Story 3 or anything else. I was focusing on the road, trying to get us home safe.

I nearly crashed because I was laughing my a** off. And, possibly, checking myself in the mirror.

Because, after a blessed silence whereupon I assumed Leah had fallen asleep, I had just heard the following.  

- Daddy?
- Yes, little one?

Pause, apparently for thought. 


- You have big funny ears. Big funny ears like a piggy.