1 Mother 2 Another

For the first few years of the
girls’ lives, our only car was a 1995 Mazda with a tape deck
and hand-cranked windows. When we added a 2000 mini-van in 2009,
there was still a tape deck, and though the front windows were
powered, the back windows, alas, did not open at all.


So when we got our new car last August, the girls marveled at many
“new” technologies, like touch-screen navigation and
iPod-ready portals, but nothing excited them as much as the power
windows. They are entranced by the power at their fingertips, and
will endlessly roll the windows up and down; Cora is practically
dog-like in her love of hanging an arm or even foot out the window
whilst traveling.

Which means it should have come as no
surprise to me and Brian that the girls invented a game around the
power windows. Apparently they compete with each other to see who
can roll her window up as high as possible and still have the
window open by a mere sliver. It’s all about the control. And
the object of the game is to technically have the window open the
tiniest bit, while fooling your sister into thinking it’s
closed.


The name of this game?


“Can You See My Crack?”


I kid you not.


And the conversation from the back seat goes something like this:


“Can you see my crack? It’s a tiny crack, a lot smaller
than your crack. I’m serious, my crack is way smaller than
yours. It’s showing, though. It’s showing a tiny bit.
I’m just showing a tiny sliver of my crack.”


Fortunately, our car is too small to allow us to give rides to
others. Or else our children would now be in Child Protective
Services.