Backseat Driver

Dear Munchkin,

And so it begins. For quite a while now, you’ve been quizzing me about how fast we’re going. “I’m going the right speed for this road,” I tell you. Though, truthfully, sometimes I’m not. Your Mama grew up in South Florida, an area with very aggressive drivers, and has struggled to quell her lead foot.

Sometimes you chant “quickly!” if you feel we’re not going fast enough, or “go!” if we’re not moving. You already know that “red means stop” and “green means go,” yet you still have little patience for red lights or a multitude of cars in front of us. I consistently remind you that we have to wait our turn.

In the last day or so, you’ve been working in a fairly common kid phrase I’d been dreading: “Are we there yet?” Repeatedly. With barely a second in between each of my “no” answers and the next iteration of the question.


I knew this day would come. In your experience, even a few seconds constitute an eternity when you have to wait for something you want.

Lord, please grant me the patience and understanding to be gentle in my responses until Munchkin (and eventually Peanut) outgrows this stage.

…Are we there yet?


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