What is it about the backseat of a car that makes siblings go all psycho? And when can I move one of them up to the front seat? Is that an age, weight or height issue? Because at this rate, we're all risking our lives anyway as the thoughts of driving off a cliff come to my mind regularly when they're quarreling behind me.
It is a rare day when I don't hear fighting of some kind back there. And of course they're always fighting about something major. I can tell by what's being yelled at the top of their lungs:
"Stop looking at me!"
"Stop touching me!"
"Stop breathing on me!"
Last night I heard a new one, and it struck me funny.
We were on our way home from church (which is always when the seemingly worst fights break out), listening to a CD when Amanda yells, "Megan!! Stop singing like a MAN!!"
Yeah. What do you even say to that?
I used to yell at my brother for whistling with the radio... oh the good times.
ReplyDeleteThis is the exact scene in the back of my car everyday. It really is ridiculous.
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