Sam The Speedometer

Sam continues to prove that having a toddler can be pretty useful. Less than a week ago, he got me a pop for the first time. I felt bad for about a minute as I sat on the couch and listened to him pad into the kitchen, open the fridge, wrestle out a can, and slam the fridge shut. But he was so proud of himself! And really, how can I take that away from him?

Sam is also forcing me to keep my wits about me. Early Sunday morning, we were driving down Maryland Avenue. The speed limit there is 35 (or is it 30? Oh dear, I should probably know that). There are usually so many cars it is impossible to speed even if one was so inclined. There were several reports of Grandma Barb going 80 MPH down Maryland when I was about to deliver Sam, but I wasn't there to confirm that.

In any case, I usually go on auto-pilot when I'm on Maryland. There is a somewhat sharp downward hill near the end of it. I am used to automatically braking when I see all the brake lights going on in the cars in front of me.

On Sunday I was the only car on the road. I came to the hill and didn't move my foot off the gas pedal. I probably wouldn't even have known I was about to take flight if it hadn't been for Sam. Strapped into his carseat, he cried, "WHEEEE!" as we tore down the hill.

I looked at my speedometer and was immediately horrified. Sam continued to cheer until I slowed back down.

Thanks, Sam, for waking me up!