Sammy has always been a backseat driver. Since he was 2, he was telling me things like that I turned the wrong way.
One morning when Sam was in his early threes, we were driving down Whitney on our way to Nana's and this was our exchange:
"Mommy, you are driving too fast."
"No, Sammy, I'm not. Does it feel like I am going fast?"
"Yes, Mommy, you are going too fast."
"Sammy, I'm really not."
"Yes, you are."
"Sam, I really wish you wouldn't argue with everything I say."
"Well, I really wish you wouldn't drive too fast!"
I can't wait for the teenage years!
As Gramma parked the car, she accidentally pulled the tires up onto the sidewalk a little (which Sammy always has believed should be punishable by law) so Sammy bent down to check it out. He looked up and said, "Grandma, you need some gas in your tires."
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