My Car Seat? The Back of a Pinto

I despise car seats. I use them for my kids, but I need a shoe horn to get my baby boy Johnny into the straps. He loathes them, too—when strapped in, he screams like a dying eagle shot in the wing.

There were no car seats when I was little. My parents drove on Easy Street. They'd throw me in the back seat and relax while I played with my toys. They even got to listen to Neil Diamond (“Sweeeeet Car-o-mine…”). Never mind that I was sitting in the back of a Pinto—you know, the old Ford model that exploded when hit from behind because the fuel tank was exposed.

Johnny’s car seat had straps threaded awfully short in the back of the seat so, every time we got Johnny in or out, a strap fell out of one side. It was like when you have a hooded sweatshirt and the string gets so far to one side that you can’t get to the other side of the string. When you try to re-thread it, you end up looking like a cat trying to grab a tether ball.

So I wasn’t surprised when we got a letter that read:

“Car Seat Recall: Harness Bracket. Dear beloved sucke-errrr—CUSTOMER, we regret to inform you that the harness adjustment bracket on your car seat has been recalled. Your son will soon be ejected from your vehicle like Evil Knievel.”

OK, I made up that last sentence. What it should have said was:

“Car Seat Recall: The Whole Thing’s a Hunk of Junk.”

It’s interesting that the brochure to sell Hunk of Junk is on glossy paper in full color; the recall notice is photocopied—crooked—in black and white. I felt so… used. It was like when your high school sweetheart makes this big red valentine with doily trim to declare love for you—then later sends you a one-line FAX to dump you that reads:

“Dear sucke-errr—SWEETHEART, you’re dumped.”

How did they fix the problem with our harness bracket? They sent two pieces of cheap plastic. Nothing says “It’s safe now!” like something that probably fell off an old toy playset. I guess the moral is, if you’re going to take away a kid’s elbow room and force his parents to listen to nursery rhymes, the least you could do is salvage some metal from an old Tonka Truck to fix their kid’s car seat.

Thanks for reading—please tell a friend!

Next up: My Daughter Has 'Big Girl Envy'

Sincerely,
Chris

Copyright Christopher Hollenback, 2006, all rights reserved.