Compliments of Guest Blogger, Jody Worsham aka The Medicare Mom
All rights reserved for Dr. Spock
There was a time when all things laid on a car seat stayed there, sometimes for months. Sunglasses tossed on the seat would remain until, well, one of my sudden stops. An open bag of M&M’s would stay put until the last one was eaten. Of course all this is BS, Before Seat-belts.
With the passage of the seat-belt laws, all cars developed seat belt holes in otherwise perfectly good bench seats. The seat-belt slots housing the retractable seatbelt became the Black Holes of Inner Space. Eye glasses placed on the seat would disappear down the hole at the slightest turn. M&M’s would pour themselves into the never-ending abyss. Cell phones would slide ringing into the blackness.
Small children are now bribed by parents. “Honey, help Mommy find her glasses. Stick your hand down this hole and don’t worry if you feel something gooey, that’s probably the chocolate bar I lost when I turned the corner yesterday and not zombie brains.”
Others have used the black hole searches to occupy bored and starving children. “You can have all the gummy bears and M&M’s you can find in the seat-belt holes.” Still others use it to threaten misbehaving children. “If you don’t settle down, you’re going to have to search for lost pens in the blaaaaaaaaack hooooooole and it won’t be pretty.”
Like space black holes, you know the seat-belt hole is there; you just can’t see what’s in it. Nor can you prove the existences of anything that has entered the black hole. You saw your driver’s license slip into the black hole, but you can’t prove it to the nice policeman. Unless you have the long fingers of a concert pianist or a cooperative two-year-old, the chances of retrieving the item are slim. Just pay the fine.
Anthropologists predict that in the future the first and second fingers of adults will grow to resemble pincers due to the continuous probing of the black seat-belt hole. Space ships will have the required seat belts as evidenced by Dr. Spock’s unique hand greeting.
Now when the children are singing that maddening never ending song “There’s a Hole in the Bottom of the Sea,” I will sing my own version.
“There’s a watch on the pen on the earring on the phone on the M&M’s, on the log in the hole in the bottom of the seat. There’s a hoooole, there’s a hooole, there’s a hole in the bottom of the seat.”
Jody Worsham started officially writing humor when she became a mom again at age 61 to two children whose names are not Viagra and Cialis. Writing humor was cheaper than therapy, legal, and didn’t leave a hangover. She has been married to the same man for almost 50 years and he is not the father to any of the 8 (adopted) children. In fact, each of the seven children have a different father. Jody blogs at http://themedicaremom.blogspot.com/