Welcome to the Jungle

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Just when one might worry I’ve gotten complacent or that I may be deluded into thinking I’ve got this parenting thing figured out…I give you this:

Driving 1.6 miles from Target to home. From the back seat, “Mmmmmeeeaaaaahhhhhh!” Starting as a low moan, rising in tone and volume to a prolonged, whining screech.

Me: “What?!?! What is that? Badger? What is wrong with you? Are you hurt?”

Badger: “Uuuuhhhhhh! Mmmmmwwwwaaaahhhhh! Eeeeehhhhh!”

Me: “Why are you making that noise?!?!?! Girls, what is wrong with her? Is she hurt?”

Middle Puff: “No, her seatbelt is tight. She can’t loosen it.”

Badger: “AAAAhhhhhh! Mmmmmeeeehhhhhhhh!” accompanied by audible jerking on the locked seatbelt.

Me: “That’s it? Badger, we’ll be home in two minutes, less than two minutes, you’re fine until then. Just sit up and deal for another minute and we’ll be home. We have frozens, I’m not pulling over! You’ll be fine for two minutes.”

Badger: “MMMMMWWWWAAAAAAHHHHH!” louder, shriller and more prolonged.

Me: “Ahhhh! KNOCK IT OFF FOR TWO SECONDS, YOU’RE MAKING MY BRAIN EXPLODE!”

Badger: “UUUUUHHHHH! AAAAAHHHHHH!”

Me: “THAT’S IT!!!!”

Soooo, nyah!

At which point I cranked Guns N’ Roses up to 11. It’s amazing how well a five-year-old’s screech blends with Axl Rose’s. The last 0.3 miles were spent blasting Welcome to the Jungle, while Badger fought and wailed like a tiny, trapped beast. I focused on driving casual, while taking deep breaths, as if nothing at all were unusual or upsetting.

As soon as the false imprisonment of a locked seatbelt released she was fine – as if the whole thing never happened.


Welcome to the jungle, we got fun and games…

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