Shotgun!

Shotgun! 

This is a new phrase at my house these days.  It started when I realized (or maybe it was when my live-ins realized) that my front seat air bags turn off when Live-In #2 & Live-In #3 sit in the front seat. 

I think this is a rite of passage...I remember fighting with my younger brother about who was going to sit in the front seat and who wasn't...only we weren't fancy with our words we just yelled 'I get the front!'.  I almost feel 8 years old again as I listen to my live-ins negotiate the front seat situation...my competitive side kicks in and I want to join the discussion and argue why I should get shotgun and then I realize I AM in the front!  DARN IT...I miss a good debate...

So far the negotiations aren't too bad, but I can tell it is going to get ugly...it is going to get to the point where I start yelling "Nobody Gets The Front Seat" - not unlike my mother did - eyes bulging, head spinning hair looking like medusa...  That is when my live-ins will look at me and wonder what my problem is... 

You know the look, right?  My live-ins have already perfected it.  It isn't an eye roll (because if it was an eye roll then heads would also roll) but it is a look that is ever so skillfully played out that I start to wonder if I am a little crazy...  They are crafty little people...

So if you see me driving down the road, looking haggard - hair stringy, eyes dialated, a perma-frown - then you will know - SHOTGUN got the better of me!