Radar

You know, I have to give it to Kyle. When he decides to do something, he does it full force. There's no halfway point with this kid.

But this time, his obsessions are affecting me. You see, he's become my own little policeman. And let me tell you, his radar gun is on 100% of the time.

His seatbelt reminders are actually quite helpful. But he recently learned to read the speed limit signs. And it's annoying. Because if that sign says 45 mph, you'd better not be going 46 or 47. Because Kyle will notice. And how do you explain fudging the law with your son?

There's a particular stretch of road on base that changes speed limits 4 times within 4 miles. No kidding. So here's my personal policeman, from the back seat:

"45 miles per hour! Are you going 45 miles per hour?"
(as he cranes his neck to check the speedometer).

"35 miles per hour! Um, mom, I think you're going more like 40."

"55 miles per hour! Mom, it says 55 now. You can go 55."
(And when he says now, he means now).

Seriously, if it wasn't so cute, and if I didn't know he'd get tired of it in a few weeks, I'd be really annoyed.