After school on Monday, Annabel was coming home with us for a lunch date. It’s nice, y’know? You’re three years old. You need a little more mealtime stimulation than moms who only get 2 hours of free time 3 days a week can provide. So Annabel was going to ride with us, and Alice would meet us anon with Phoebe the younger. Normally I drive the Passat, which has an easily-accessible center seatbelt in the back seat. Zoe and Lucy ride in their car seats and Annabel sits in the middle with a regular seatbelt on. (No officer, we’ve never done this before.) However, today I was driving the Outback (yes, these were our two cars back when we were DINKs too so just shut up) whose center seatbelt is a little more, shall we say, subtle. I would have had to remove the two car seats and stick my hand into god-knows-what in the back seat crack to find it (not knowing if it was in there at all). Annabel would no doubt obediently hang around right by the car while I performed these maneuvers, but the second Zoe & Lucy realized my focus was elsewhere they would have taken off for the Mad Hatter faster than you can say “Gimme my DIY Cupcake.”
So I called Alice and told her it wasnâ€™t going to work for us to drive Annabel. That weâ€™d wait at school until she could get there and then weâ€™d convoy the whole mile back to our house.
Isn’t that what you would do?