I have spoken about our dilemma with car before.
11 months in and Cruz still HATES it.
I mean HAATTESSS it. Like red-face-arched-back-about-to-pop-a-blood-vessels-slash-cause-a-27-car-pile-up hates it.
When he is having a bad day, things get dangerous.
On numerous occasions we have come dangerously close to side swiping the center divide. Or that one time I almost killed a road side construction worker. Come on, they wear bright orange vests, I would have had no "I didn't see him" excuse. And I'm pretty sure that "My infant son was having a mild conniption fit, causing me to bump the windshield wipers thus smearing bird feces all over my windshield resulting in my accidentally bumping that thing that changes your gears and causing my car to change from automatic to manual, therefore rendering it impossible for me to accelerate wherein I panicked and thought my transmission was falling out on the freeway so I closed my eyes (cause thats what you do in serious, life threatening situations right?) and accidentally almost killed that guy in the oversized, fluorescent, blinking, orange, safety outfit" would not hold up in court.
So in an effort to avoid that scenario (again) I had to act fast.
I did what any sensible mother would do.
I pulled into a gas station, hopped around oustide the car until I could get my boot back on (unsolicited advice: don't try to take too tight, knee high boots on and off whilst operating a vehicle), hiked up my slouchy maternity leggings (nothing sexier then baggy leggings that makes it look like your crotch ends just barely north of your knees) grabbed a bag of Funyuns and a pack of Rolo's and stuffed them into the carseat around Cruz so that he could enjoy them at his leisure and thereby saving all innocent bystanders from the havoc I am capable of wreaking during a backseat meltdown.
Moral: Next time your on the road in California, avoid any and all white Mazda's...Maybe all white cars, just to be safe.