Back Seat

When Ann and John were in their pre-teen years we got in the habit of going to movie matinees. Matinees were good because they were cheaper than full price. Jean wasn’t a movie fan and preferred to have a couple of hours of peace and quiet in the house alone, so Ann John and I would pile into the car after lunch and bolt for one of the “new” theaters with stadium seating.

We tried to pick movies that had been out for a while so they wouldn’t be too crowded. We always got there early so we could sit in the last row and not have anyone sitting behind us making annoying noises during the movie. We also smuggled in a can of coke for each of us. It made the movie affordable, but it really was wrong. The theater makes a great deal of their profit on concessions and you are not supposed to bring anything in. It may have been wrong, but I still have a hard time generating much guilt for my crime.

On car trips, even brief ones, it was our habit to make both of the kids sit in the back seat of the car. We did this even when only one parent was in the car, like on the way to the theater. It cut down on arguments. On one of our trips to the movies pre-teen Ann and I had a discussion about the seating arrangements in the car.

Dad, why do we have to sit in the back seat?
Because, I can’t fit both of you in the front seat
But why couldn’t one of us sit in the front seat?
Because you would argue about who gets to sit in front and who has to sit in back. I don’t want to listen to the arguments.
But what if we didn’t argue?
Didn’t argue? Of course you would argue. You are a girl, John is a boy, boys and girls your age naturally don’t like each other and argue all the time. I hear it in the house all the time; brothers and sisters argue; it’s perfectly natural and unavoidable.
Dad, it looks ridiculous.
What do you mean? I don’t look ridiculous; I am simply driving the car. Driving is quite normal.
No, I mean we look ridiculous, both riding in the back seat with an empty seat up front.
Oh, well, I will grant you that. The two of you do look, well, mildly ridiculous, but at least I don’t look ridiculous and you aren’t arguing!
What if we didn’t argue?
Hah! That is a scientific impossibility. Do you know that researchers studied kids on playgrounds to discover what they liked to do most? They used stopwatches to measure how much time was spent playing football, baseball, basketball, tag, jumping rope and so on. Do you know what activity kids enjoy most? Arguing! The kids spent way more time arguing than playing any other game. So the conclusion was, since the kids spent the majority of their time arguing, that arguing must be their favorite activity. So there it is. Kids love to argue.
That’s great Dad, but what if John and I agreed who would sit up front?
You and John agree on who sits up front?
Yes.
You think you guys could agree in advance of getting in the car who sits where and not argue?
Yes.
You would never argue? You know it annoys me when you argue?
Right, we would never argue.
You know it’s never happened before. It’s never been accomplished before in human history. Wouldn’t that be something? The first kids on the planet not to argue?
We could do it, Dad. Please?
You know it’s pretty big stuff to be the first to do something? You wouldn’t get credit for it in a record book or anything. We couldn’t PROVE that you didn’t argue.
That’s okay.
Hmm. If, and I mean IF we tried this experiment, I’ll throw both your butts in the TRUNK if I see so much as a raised eyebrow, rolled eyeball, or question mark about who sits where.
Sure Dad, whatever.
Well, okay, let’s try it just this ONE time. Both of you get out of the car, have a conversation and get back in where you will, but I don’t want to hear a single disagreeable word. Both of you out of the car and let’s start this exercise over. And don’t forget to thank me!
Thanks, Dad.

(I think she rolled her eyes at that point.)