Tuesday October 12 2010 1045 am
GPS = Global Pestering System
Posted by Tracy Hahn-Burkett under Out of the Mouths of My Kids , Parenting on a Daily BasisLeave a Comment
A few months ago, my kids and I were on our way to visit my sister and brother-in-law in Rhode Island when we suddenly ran into a detour at a key fork in the highway. Just as I tried to glance at my directions for guidance, the driver in front of me slammed on his brakes and came to a complete stop in the middle of the highway. I swerved to one side to avoid hitting him, swerved again to avoid hitting another car, then found myself on a highway I couldn’t identify. Within minutes, I had no clue where I was.
I called my sister’s house.
“Hey, where are you?” My brother-in-law sounded cheerful.
I, on the other hand, was not so bubbly. “I’m on some road I can’t identify in a crappy part of Rhode Island somewhere near Providence. A few minutes ago I passed a nuclear cooling tower. My road atlas isn’t in my car. My Mapquest directions are useless. Some idiot braked in the middle of the highway and almost hit me. Tell me how to get to your house from here.”
That night, my sister and brother-in-law announced that they were going to buy me a GPS device for my birthday.
We’d resisted owning a GPS until then, primarily because I don’t like it when people tell me what to do and my husband figured I’d own the thing for a week before I got annoyed with it and ran it over with my car.
But it hasn’t been that bad. Sure, she’s (why is the voice a “she,” by the way?) irritating when she interrupts my conversations and all but sighs and shakes her head before loudly blurting “Recalculating” if I ignore her advice, but I can live with that.
What I didn’t plan on, however, was my eight-year-old son’s enthusiasm for the GPS, and what that would mean for me. “Jack” loves the device, and in his hands it has become a Global Pestering System.
Jack likes to use the GPS to assist us in all of our travels: not just on long trips, but to go to more common destinations like the grocery store, the soccer field, my daughter’s ballet school, etc. For reasons I can’t explain, he thinks it’s hilarious when the computerized voice orders me to turn right and I, using my own mind and my knowledge of the area in which I live, turn left, thereby frustrating the computer.
But the most troublesome and unanticipated consequence of the GPS in Jack’s hands is its monitoring function. I had no idea that the unit would display not only my speed at any given moment, but the legal speed limit at the same time. Jack is my rule-following son, and this feature of the GPS in his hands spells T-R-O-U-B-L-E for Mommy.
Jack, in the back seat: “Mommy, you’re going too fast. The speed limit is 55 miles an hour.” “Oh, wow, we’re going way too fast. Mommy, slow down.” “Mommy, Mommy, do you know you’re going 70 miles an hour?”
Me, in the driver’s seat: Do not rip the GPS out of his hands and throw it out the window. Don’t. Do. It.
Jack: “Mommy, are you sure you’re going the right way?”
It adds a whole new dimension to driving.
Jack’s been into maps and geography lately, and I don’t want to discourage those interests by banning him from using the GPS. But I don’t know how much more of his “helpfulness” I can take when I’m behind the wheel. All I can do is hope that his fascination with the GPS wears off soon.
As for my sister and brother-in-law: well, their kids are younger than mine. They’re not yet aware of the full potential of the GPS device. But as soon as their older child can read, they’ll understand the nature of the Global Pestering System. And if for some reason it doesn’t happen for them, I’ll send their nephew over to show them.