My wife left for the weekend, and that schedules us for a bout with Rota Virus. I opted for home treatment, and was utterly successful in curing my daughter promptly myself: all you have to do is drink a half gallon of fluids per day plus however much you puke or poop. Cured as she might be, it still wasn't a fun weekend, so the wife suggested I take her someplace fun on Sunday.
She couldn't think of anywhere she wanted to go (she just wanted the TV to be on all day), but on our walk to the ATM she found something exciting: mini cars kids can drive around in 6 minutes for 5 lits. Super. Good time, just that she has trouble keeping the peddle pressed down. The dude suggest putting it on autopilot so that she doesn't have to; okay, what's the harm in that?
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!" she screamed, as she tried to escape from the moving vehicle. I don't know exactly h0w fast it was going, certainly no faster than a lawnmower. She sort of half way fell out by the time I ran over to pick her up.
As we walked home from the unpleasantness, I asked her why she tried to get out. Turns out she couldn't see me anymore, and forgot that she can turn the steering wheel to change course. Her logical conclusion, given what knowledge she could summon at the moment, was that she was going to drive away from me and I would never be able to get to her, at least not until she got into an accident and possibly died: I wasn't sure if by "go away," which she repeated several times, she merely meant meters or maybe mortality.
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