Whenever we venture into the big bad world as a family, Mr. Husband drives. That is not because I don't like to drive, it is because I don't like to drive when he is in the car. Once upon a time he trained people to get their Class B CDL licenses. Essentially, he was paid to sit in the passenger seat and critique every move somebody made while driving a very large bus. Guess who was really good at critiquing every move somebody made while driving? Why, yes, my husband is a back-seat driving overachiever. Yes, he is.

Since I can't handle being asked when I last checked my blind spot and having somebody count the seconds between my glances in the rear-view mirror, I just force let him drive everywhere. It's FAR less stress for me, and probably for him as well since I would probably bite off his head, chew it until it was super mushy, then spit it into out the window right after he asked me if I was maintaining the proper following distance on the freeway for the eleventy seventh fourteenth time.

The only thing is that I am also a bit of a back-seat driver. I'm nowhere near as bad as him, but I do have a major paranoia about rear-ending a car (been there, done that, it wasn't my fault but my brand new Civic looked an awful lot like a Smart car when it was all over). So, if he maybe waits a millisecond longer than I would before braking, I'm not above, I don't know, shrieking like a teenage girl at a Jonas Brothers concert. I might yell, "LOOK OUT! THAT CAR IS STOPPING!" Or maybe it's, "WE'RE GOING TO DIE. STOOOOOOOOOP!"

Anyway.

The littlest apple in our family fell very near both trees. No doubt about it. Alexis has become quite the little back seat driver. She is always telling me that I've missed my turn if I happen to drive past the playground, she likes to tell me to go faster, and she sometimes gets a little crabby about my inability to park next to yellow cars. It's all good.

This morning, Mr. Husband experienced his own moment of enduring the littlest back-seat driver. Alexis and he were running to the store to get a new propane tank for our grill when Alexis suddenly shrieked and yelled, "WOOK OUT! THERE'S CAR!" She very nearly scared Mr. Husband to death.

That's my girl.