Assigned Seating

So yesterday we went to the beach.  Half Moon Bay is about 45 minutes away depending on traffic and we left around 10:30 so we figured we'd eat once we got there.  Being the creatures of habit that we are, we all drifted to our assigned seats.  John driving, me in shotgun, Tom backseat left, Sam backseat right, Abbey on the floor at my feet and Alice standing on my lap/stomach staring out the window.  Abbey is an angel in the car.  She lays down on the floor and chills. She's only had a problem once and that was when we drove up the coast, in the dark, on this winding road, for hours and I was convinced an animal was going to dart into the road so John kept slowing down so that I'd shut up and by the time we reached our destination we were all very happy to not be moving and Abbey climbed out of the car and threw up.

Alice does not chill in the car because Alice does not chill.  Her preferred position is standing on my gunt looking out the window but she also likes to lay down on my lap and stand up and lay down and stand up and jump down on the floor to make sure that Abbey doesn't fall asleep and climb back on my lap and shed. Yesterday was new. It went like this:

Alice stands on my lap and looks into the back seat.
John, "What's that smell?"
Alice sticks her head between the seats.
John, "It smells like salami."
Alice jumps into the back seat.
John and I turn around to look.
Sam is holding a sandwich bag full of salami.
Alice is in love with Sam.
Sam, "What? It's a snack."
John and I turn back around.
A minute goes by.
Me, "The kid is sitting back there with a bag of meat."
John, "I think I'm jealous."

All my life I never knew that the key to a peaceful road trip was a bag of meat.