My car is not a democracy.
I want you to be safe and comfortable, certainly. But at the end of the day and at the beginning of it and throughout the middle, it’s a dictatorship and I am the dictator.
In my car, I make the rules – all of them. They may not be fair or even consistent, but unlike home or school or even this wonderful country in which we live, the person at the wheel rules – with absolute power.
Just as an FYI, you should know that this post is sponsored by
Nissan X-TRAIL. But all opinions expressed by the author are 100 per cent authentic and written in their own words.
The laws of my car include (but are not limited to):
1) The radio station will be chosen by me. Even if you are big enough to sit in the front seat and know how to operate the controls, the radio and associated bells and whistles are out of bounds. Diana Ross’s Greatest Hits might make you feel carsick and the very idea I could sing along to ‘Chain Reaction’ while we’re giving your friend Lucy a lift to hockey might be beyond abhorrent, but that’s life. I’m building your resilience.
2) I reserve the right to drive past Drive Thrus. Unless it has been more than 48 hours since you ate food of any kind, you are not starving. You may be peckish, hungry or bored but I won’t give into your pleas (unless of course, I fancy a sneaky cheesy – never make the mistake of thinking there’s one set of rules).
3) The windows, air conditioning and other climate control devices are, like the radio, to be operated be the driver (me) alone. If you have hot feet you may not direct every fan in the vehicle towards said feet.
4) If I am driving somewhere to a party, sporting fixture or playdate that has NOTHING IN IT FOR ME, any complaints about how long the drive is taking will result in an abrupt detour to the nearest coffee shop.