Back off!

Some mornings I wake up in a panic. What if, while I've been asleep, the human race has come to its collectives senses? What if I arise to a world where nobody is stupid enough or unlucky enough or deluded enough for me to mock them? What if no public figures have behaved badly or ignorantly or arrogantly? What if Ed Balls has retired? I frantically scour the papers online, terrified I’ll find nothing to blog about.

But all good things come to those who wait and it’s a rare day when I can’t find inspiration. Today, I’m going all out against a target too young and vulnerable to defend itself… or rather, I’m having a go at their keepers. Babies in cars, or more accurately, the notices that say so.

This is a drum I’ve been banging for donkey’s years, so it is with a certain satisfaction (for which, read ‘unrestrained glee’) that I quote from the news article I found today:

“Nearly two million drivers have had accidents due to ‘Baby On Board’ signs and children’s toys that obscure their view…”

Just as I have noticed BMW drivers’ indifference to all other road users, it is apparent to me that some of the most dangerous driving is committed by the controllers of cars bearing fertility-boasting notices. Do they somehow believe that announcing an achievement so un-profound that thirteen year old chavtramps can do it between episodes of Jeremy Kyle is going to impress anybody?

If anything the information: Back off - Baby on Board is more likely to elicit the reaction Bog off and get out of my way you simpering, child-obsessed moron. But it gets worse because, not content with the utterly redundant information that an enthrallment to your own heightened sense of worth is something we may give a fuck about, you decide we might like to share in the fun and present us with the following rib-ticklers:

Cheeky Monkey on Board. Daddy’s Little Princess on Board. Little Miss on Board. Grandchild on Board. These trite, twee, thoughtless spoutings of sentimental guff hide the sinister truth, but I suppose there isn’t really room for, “Help me. I have done something I will regret forever. Aliens have ruined my Life and now they want to kill me… and they’re On Board right now!”

Back to the news and the statistic that “One in 20 motorists says stickers and playtime paraphernalia are to blame for a collision…”

Ah, but, you say…. There’s a good reason for having one of those signs. What if I have a crash? You say. It will let the emergency services know there’s a child involved. Bollocks, I reply, as if the child seat, the toys, the feeding, cleaning and amusement paraphernalia wouldn't give them a clue? Even road safety charity Brake says “[This] can become a hindrance if drivers display signs when their child isn't in the vehicle.”

So, you had a kid. And the kid is sometimes in the car. And you believe that if I know this, it is less likely I will deliberately ram your grubby, clapped-out family wagon with my sleek, shiny, I-can-afford-this-because-I don’t-have-kids-mobile? I can hardly type for laughing!