Laylee continually finds new ways to boss Magoo around. Today they were playing in the ship they made and she told him to steer to the left. “No. I’m going this way,” he said, which was funny because he doesn’t know right from left. He just resented being told what to do. They picked at each other for a minute when Laylee finally said, “You have to go left because I said so and I’m the GPS.”
She’s smart enough to know who wears the pants around here, who has absolute and total power and control over our lives. It’s Diane, our GPS. She says, “Go right,” and we darn well go right. She says “Continue 3.5 miles,” and we continue. Sometimes she has to recalculate because we, in our incompetency, make a wrong move, but she always sets us straight with new directions.
“Okay,” Laylee continued to the acquiescent Magoo, “Turn left. Now keep right for 2 point miles. Now turn right and arrive at destination on left.”
Magoo continued to follow her directions.
“You know what a destination is? It’s the place you want to go.”
The place who wants to go? Huh, Laylee? If a GPS can boss Mom and Dad around, then the sky’s the limit really.
“I’m the GPS. Go get me a drink and polish my shoes peasant boy.”