Backseat Driver

Okay, Elisabeth. I love you dearly but let's recap. I shared my circulatory, pulmonary and gastrointestinal system with you for 9 months...rent free. I shared many, many middle of the night rendezvous with you. I share my computer with you and read my emails through the tiny finger smudges you've left behind. I haven't actually TASTED my food in 2 1/2 years. I even share a bathroom with you. Move over, "ruggy duckies." But here, my little backseat driver, is where I draw the line...

The scenario and conversation
went something like this:           

Me: (changing the radio station)
Elisabeth: Noooo! Oh my...Oh my! (seriously worried look on her face)
Me: What?
Elisabeth: Go back. I like that song!
(what!? Is she for real?)
Me: (Click back to Kelly Clarkson) This one?
Elisabeth: No.
Me: (click back to Maroon 5) This one?
Elisabeth: Yes! Thanks. (Thumb back in mouth and starts groovin' to the beat)

;)