I really can’t wait for William to learn how to drive.
Not that I’m trying to fast forward time 15 years to use him as a personal taxi service.
It’s just so he’d understand that driving a car means my eyes have to stay fixed on the road and my hands on the steering wheel.
As soon as we set off on a car journey, the little chap seems to demand more of my attention: “Window open”, “too cold”, “wee weeeeeee”.
At which point, I quickly take the next turn onto a quiet side street and hope there are no residents peering out their living room windows while we have a potty al fresco moment.
Trying to get William back in his car seat takes about 10 minutes when he insists on pretending to drive, pressing every button he can reach. (Leaving me driving with fog lights on at 1pm on a beautifully sunny day.)
Once on the road, even a five minute journey can involve twisting, turning back and trying to keep him entertained.
If he wants a drink, I pass it back and hope I’m aiming it in the general direction of his hand, of course, we have to negotiate passing it back.
The same goes for passing crackers or chocolate... which, I now refrain from giving to him in the car – after realising I can’t control where sticky fingers get wiped while driving.
I’m sure you can imagine what a pickle we get in if William drops a toy or – God forbid – his dummy.
It normally involves quickly scrambling around at the back of the seats, while at a red light.
If that doesn’t work, I pull the car over yet again to carry out a full search of the back... to discover he’s just sat on it! Sometimes I think we’d get places faster by walking.