Recently as we travel home at night with the Midget Lady in the back seat, I noticed that I started getting extremely focused about my driving in the last mile or two before home. At first, it just seemed like an odd tenseness, but once I realized I was doing it, I understood that I had unconsciously begun the sacred quest for "Dad Speed".
For those of you who think I'm insane, read on before judging. I remember when I was a little kid always being amazed that I'd go from being in the car on the way home, happily looking forward to something-or-other before bed, and then suddenly it was morning, I was in my bed, and dressed in my jammies (yep, I still call 'em that). Somehow, my Dad had knocked me unconscious with some mysterious force, thrown me over his shoulder, carried me inside, dressed me for bed, and tucked me in. Amazing.
As I now come to realize, that mysterious force is none other than "Dad Speed". Somewhere between too fast and too slow is the perfect speed at which to drive, turn, and stop over the neighborhood streets that will lull kids into a sleep so deep that they become rag dolls. I've seen it, I did it by accident once, and now I'm constantly trying to perfect Dad Speed on the way home.
I'm sure cars have evolved much better suspension systems in the last 26 years, but even still the car will bounce wildly if you drive too slow, and driving too fast makes heads sway on turns. Somewhere in between is Dad Speed.
I know, I know. It's a geek/OCD thing. But all I can say is that the benefits of a rag doll kid are totally worth the fact that I'm neurotic. Judge yourself: Is Dad Speed real?
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