Safety First

There's nothing like a visit back home to revert us back to our childhood ways. Or rather, childish ways. The educational degrees, marriages, children and other attempts at maturation are forgotten the moment you step through the front door. Instead, there's wrestling with siblings, the pressing of parents' buttons, bathroom jokes (only between brothers, of course), and the debate over "who's the favorite" (it's always someone else).

My family's classic example of this is a ride in the car. Throughout my childhood, the moment everyone piled into the minivan my dad would immediately call out, "Seatbelts!!!" Some of us would put our seatbelts on, some of us wouldn't. And sure enough, approximately 2 minutes later we would hear, "Kristen? Seatbelt? Ruth?" Over and over the pestering would continue until all of us were sufficiently annoyed. And safe.

So flashforward 10 or 20 years. I hop in the car with dad for a drive to the grocery store. Two minutes down the road I hear, "Ruth!? Seatbelt? I'm not supporting you when you're a vegetable." Thanks, dad. Nevermind the fact that I'm a grown woman. Nevermind the fact that I always wear a seatbelt while I'm driving my car. I'm home visiting, so apparently I've reverted back.

I suppose it's nice to know that my dad still cares. Furthermore, he's in the process of turning over the "seatbelt" responsibility to my son. The moment we get in the car now, Kyle hollers, "Seatbelt, mommy!"