“Baby on Board”? Feh.
There are better warnings for more dangerous cars to avoid
Driving with a baby in the car is scarier than having a baby.
Seems so, given how modern babies need to be tightly strapped into massive zero-gravity car seats that meet not just NHTSA but also NASA, NASCAR, IKEA, OSHA, American Orthopedic Association, Consumer Reports, Barcalounger, and Motion Picture Association depiction standards for baby car seating.
Not to mention NextDoor and other uninformed yet powerful social media opinions as well as official Shades of Grey sadomasochistic requirements (for the strapping down).
“Baby on Board” car signs became a thing in the 1980s, a way for Boomers to preen about their parenthood because everything they did was special.
Naturally, their babies were special too. If we cared about their special babies, we needed to drive extra sensitively around Boomer minivans, as if they were leading a funeral procession carting a cadaver, because their babies were more precious than any people, living or dead.
The Boomers’ precious babies “grew up” to become precious adults who snort at the “OK Boomers” who coddled and funded them, whine about their hard-knock lives, and get anxious, triggered and traumatized by toxic assaults on their amazing agency such as school grading, working for money, performance reviews and being white privileged, which is not their fault.
No surprise, when the Boomer kids and their kids made kids, they made the baby-warning signs still a thing.
“We saw one the other day, and my 11-year-old said, ‘So wait, it’s okay to hit other cars but just not that one because they have a baby? What am I, chopped liver?’” a parent, 42, recently told The Washington Post.
Iwould love to wallow in delicious irritation from the “Baby on Board” signs.
Or I could get silly and say, “Thanks for the warning! I’m deathly afraid of babies!” Or, “Don’t forget to crack your windows!”
Instead, I’d like to get serious and offer car signs that warn us of truly dangerous drivers to avoid. I could think of at least 57 varieties in my sleep, which I did while nodding off as I was driving:
- Baby on Board Screaming and Vomiting.
- Baby on Board Demanding Horrible Earworm Baby Music.
- Baby on Board Bored by Horrible Earworm Baby Music and Screaming.
- Baby on Board Driving Parent Life.
- Baby on Board is a Tiny Sweet Bundle of Stalin.
- Gifted Baby on Board. Parents Insufferable.
- Baby on Board Sending Parents into Marriage Therapy.
- Baby on Board Destined for Therapy.
- Baby on Board Will Become Sullen Teen.
- This Car Recently Jacked by Sullen Teen.
- Driver Enjoying Jacked Doritos.
- Student Driver Shamed by Sticker.
- Student Driver Distracted by Instagram.
- Student Driver Not Distracted by Instagram. Just Idiot Driver.
- Student Driver Traumatized By Implication of Idiot Driving.
- Graduate Student Driver Headed to Unemployment Office.
- Caution: Driver Eating Deliciously Sloppy French Onion Soup.
- Warning: Driving Miss Daisy. Google Reference, Gen Z.
- I’m Driving in My Car. I Turn on the Radio. Google Reference, Gen Z.
- J6 Patriot Flouting Deep State Traffic Rules.
- J6 Patriot Flaunting Deep State Traffic Rules.
- J6 Patriot Proudly Ignorant About Nerdy Difference Between Flouting and Flaunting.
- Easily Triggered Gun Nut on Board.
- Driver Afraid of Easily Triggered Gun Nuts.
- Driver Yelled at Google Maps. Lost Forever in AI Metaverse Wormhole.
- Existentialist Driver. God Is Not My Copilot.
- Agnostic Driver. God Maybe/Maybe Not My Copilot.
- God-Fearing Christian Driver, Pre-2020: Trump Is My Copilot.
- God-Fearing Christian Driver, Post-2020: Maybe Trump Isn’t My Copilot.
- Driver Is Third Knuckle Into Nostril.
- Humanist Driver Captivated by NPR. Ironically Doesn’t Notice or Care About You.
- Dog Is My Copilot. Ruined Shotgun Seat Expressing Anal Glands.
- My Other Car Was Stolen in the Divorce.
- My Car Was Stolen By Me in the Divorce.
- How’s My Driving? Call 1–800-INSECUR.
- Warning: Driver Sexting Ex.
- Warning: Driver on 3 a.m. Booty Call with Ex.
- Warning: Driver Heading Home Disappointed That Booty Call Just Wanted to Talk About Feelings and Issues.
- Warning: Poor Non-White DoorDash Driver Lost in Wealthy White Neighborhood.
- I Beg Your Pardon: British Driver on Wrong Side of Road.
- I Beg Your Pardon: Who Promised You Commuting Rose Garden?
- Sorry No Turn Signal. My Direction is None of Your Goddamned Bidness.
- Not Stoned but That’s Freakin’ Hilarious.
- Monkey on Board. Surprise Joke Gift to Wife.
- Baby on Board: Surprise Joke Gift to Husband.
- Husband on Board. Not With Having Another Baby.
- Steer Clear. Billionaire Hedge Fund Crypto Genius Late to SEC Hearing.
- Caution: Driverless Car Portends Robot Apocalypse.
- Don’t Worry: Driverless Buick Just Shrunken Old Man Behind Wheel.
- Driver Hates Bikers Unless Biking.
- Driver Reluctantly Driving. Cares More About Climate Than You.
- My Other Car Is a $3,000 Tour De France-quality Cervelo Bike That Owns the Road. I’m Officially a Douche.
- Drive Around Me: I Love My Prius.
- Drive Around Me: I Hate My Prius.
- Don’t Take Offense: Subaru Driver Is Superior to You.
- My new $120,000 Tesla SUV Can Beat Your Housekeeper’s Old $6,000 21 mpg Toyota Corolla.
- If You Drive, You Don’t Care About Our Planet and Our Children.
Maybe enviro-activists are right: Avoid the warnings and never drive at all.
Jeffrey Denny is a Washington writer. All content herein ©.