This little buddy is trying to grow up a little too quickly for my taste. Since I won't let him take driving lessons yet, our compromise is that I let him play in the car while I bring the shopping bags, (as well as the the snack wrappers, errant shoes, forgotten toys, sippy cups and miscellaneous discarded clothing items) into the house. This guarantees him a few minutes of pretend-driving freedom pretty frequently.
Unfortunately the agreement also requires that he cry like a banshee every time I take him out of the car and into the house.
Let the good times roll.
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