Does Your Family Follow "The Rules"?

My younger daughter is pissed.

For the past few years, she’s been anxiously waiting the day she can finally sit in the front seat of the car, and for the past few years we’ve told her she had to wait until she was 12.

She turned 12 almost five months ago and we’ve done a pretty good job of stalling the issue, but we just found out from her doctor (and other assorted websites that I googled, of course) that the recommended age is actually 13.

Since she has several friends her age who have been allowed to sit in the front seat for the past year (at least) she’s having a hard time coming to grips with this, even after the doctor explained that the recommendation has everything to do with bone development and nothing to do with height or weight (i.e., it really doesn’t matter how tall you are or how much you weigh at age 11 or 12, your bones simply are not developed strongly enough yet to safely sustain the exploding air bag).

And then I said something that she’s heard a million times and that, like or not, she knows she can’t argue with, “…and besides, you know that every family has their own rules, and you play by ours, not theirs.”

Cue eye rolling and disappointed mouth tilt.

It’s okay, I’m used to it. And so are they.

We’re rule followers in our family.

And by “rule followers” I don’t mean we won’t take Advil six months after the expiration date (we will) or won’t let our younger than 13-year-old daughter watch PG-13 movies (we usually do…and then usually regret it); I’m talking about the types of rules that blur the line between a rule and just common safety sense. And unfortunately for my girls, not everyone they know has to play by the same ones.

Going for a bike ride? Wear your helmet (even if you’re just riding to the corner and back).

Swimming out in the depths of the lake where I can not see you if you suddenly start to sink to the bottom? Life jacket is ON, no matter how strong of a swimmer you think you are.

Want to ride your bike or walk around the neighborhood by yourself? Not on my watch, sister (unless you are actually with your sister).

Wearing seat belts (always), obeying traffic rules, not texting or fiddling with our phones when driving, crossing a busy street at the crosswalk; we play it safe. Maybe too safe, but I won’t judge your rules if you won’t judge mine.

And maybe the term “rule follower” isn’t even accurate here, especially since there’s a fair share of rules we do break (like the 18-year-old still ordering off the kid’s menu (hooligans!) and occasionally filling our trash cans with yard waste (delinquents!) and taking four Advil at a time for a headache (hard core felons!)). No, “rule follower” are probably the wrong two words. Maybe the two I’m going for are “neurotic mother.” Whatever you want to call it, it’s how we roll in our house.

And for the most part, our girls get it, agree with it and are fine with it.

Until you tell the one who thought she was gonna get to sit in the front seat that she has to wait another seven months.

Sucks to be her.

Michelle Newman wears many hats – wife, mother, vet, maid, therapist and personal assistant to the other three members of her household. Her work has recently been included in the best selling humor anthology, ‘I Just Want To Pee Alone.’ Michelle writes about her family, the absurdity of celebrity life, and anything else she can find hidden humor in over at her blog You’re My Favorite Today as well as on Facebook and Twitter (although she sucks at Twitter).