I don't care how awesome that Vine was that you just watched. I don't care if that girl in your Math class just posted a picture on Instagram and her hair looked cray-cray. I don't care if One Direction just stepped in front of the vehicle and I am about to slam into them at terminal velocity.
I have to pause a moment and consider whether that last sentence was truly tongue-in-cheek. I think it is.
Anyway, daughter, I do realize that as teenage girls, you and your friends like to scream. A lot. About everything.
And son, you are a child with autism. Your normal tone of voice is generally a scream. I get that.
But when Mom is operating a couple of tons of metal at high speeds where the slightest deviation from the road could mean...oh, I don't know...death, we need to not be screaming. We really, really do.
Because Mom is old, and easily startled. Mom has had years of raising children under her belt and they have worn her down, making her nerves fragile things that are entirely too frayed. Mom needs peace in these, her later years.
Especially while driving.
Save it for home, where she's only operating vacuum cleaners or cooking over a hot stove. Remember that time Mom was in the shower and you were on the back deck screaming "Fire!" and Mom ran down the stairs with her sopping wet hair flying out behind her and ran out stark naked on the deck to find you playing with your nerf guns and screaming "Fire" because you were playing firing squad?
Yeah, the neighbors remember that, too. It may not be a good memory for them.
But at least we weren't traveling sixty plus miles an hour on a road with opposing traffic flying by. So please, my darlings, put a lid on it. Zip your lips. Be exuberant, but don't be excruciating.
Save that magnificent voice for later in life, when you visit your frail, shaking mother in her nursing home. By then her nerves will be worn clean through and she won't have much of her hearing left. The screaming might come in handy.