She Can Be Taught!

Today, while hurtling around my father's golf course in the passenger seat of a golf cart powered by my father's lead foot and navigated by my almost-3-year-old, I realized that whether or not my furniture makes it to FL intact will be of little consequence if I am dead. Near death experiences were on the menu today while riding in said golf cart with my child and my father. Growing up on or near a golf course most of my life, golf carts have been a part of my existence as far back as I can remember. Today I realized just how dangerous they actually are. Think on it: battery powered, metal frames on wheels. No doors. No windows. NO SEATBELTS. Add into this contraption a 55+ golf pro who knows the golf course like the back of his hand (same man who will drive the golf cart, pointing out the view from #3, not looking AT ALL, as we seemingly speed over the sand-trap embankment off the side of the mountain on which the course was built). He is holding a hyperactive pre-schooler precariously in his lap allowing her to pilot this 25+ mph contraption over the rolling hills and valleys of the 13th hole. By the time we made it back to the clubhouse, my right thigh was cramping from the number of times I hit the imaginary emergency brake on my side of the golf cart. However, I was NOT awarded title of "poo-poo head" as my mother was. I managed to keep my terror well disguised while riding with these 2 while my mom kept letting phrases like "Slow down!" or "Turning, turning!!!" escape from her lips. One other thing I realized: my father never would have let any of we children drive a golf cart when we were 3. Phrases like, "I could get fired!" or "You could hurt someone!" (how true!) were favorites whenever Leanne, Jay or I wanted to drive the cart. This just goes to show you that yes, parenthood is a monumental reminder of how unfair your parents can really be. You thought your little brother had it good? Forget it. Wait till you have kids. Your parents will let your kids do things even YOU know are a bad idea. Case in point: this is a conversation I have actually had with my own father.
-Dad, we don't let her launch herself off the furniture like that.
-Why not?
-She could hurt herself.
-But she's having fun...
-Dad, she's leaping from the arm of the couch onto the ottoman. That spells disaster to me.
-C'mon, lighten up. I'm the Papa. Besides, this is a lot better than letting her jump off the back of the deck like we did yesterday.
SHEESH.
One thing that I am proud of though. As the wind was screaming through our hair on the golf cart today, my mother said, yet again, "Danny, slow down!" To which my father replied, "Oh, just shut up, would ya?"
My gorgeous, almost-3-year-old daughter proceeded to say, "Uh-oh, Papa said 'shut up'. We don't say that word Papa. That's bad." So, she's listening - granted it's only to correct others rather than follow directions herself but this at least confirms that she can, in fact hear. Thank God for small victories.