It was raining pretty hard one morning and Avtalyon wasn’t feeling good, which threw a wrench into my taking-Barak-to-school routine. Usually we walk, take the bus, and walk some more, and the round-trip for me is around an hour and a half. While we're gone, Abba takes Avtalyon to school, which clearly wasn't happening this morning, nor was Abba going to be able to daven until I got back (usually after 9 am). Given the circumstances, a cab seemed in order, so for the second time this year, I called one. It was absolutely pouring when the cab pulled up and we climbed in; I buckled Barak into his booster and as we pulled away I realized that the driver was not wearing a seatbelt. This, I felt, needed to be addressed. The following conversation, I am proud to say, happened entirely in Hebrew (his side) and Hebrew [caveman] (mine).
Me: Where’s your seatbelt?
Driver, stating the obvious: I’m not wearing it.
Me: But why? That’s very dangerous.
Driver: I don’t like it. It bothers me.
Me: It would bother you much more to fly into the window.
Me. It’s raining a lot. Don’t you think you need your seatbelt?
Driver: [mumble mumble]
Me, pulling out the heavy artillery: What would your mother say?
Driver: I’m big already.
Me: She still wants you alive.
Me: She wants you to wear a seatbelt. I am sure.
Driver (weakening): But she doesn’t know.
Me: Maybe I’ll call her.
Driver, admitting defeat but being a complete good sport: I’m putting it on.
He did, too. And I didn't see him unbuckling it as he was pulling away, either.