When children become backseat drivers in 100 or fewer words:
I'm driving with the girls, and for once the entire van is silent. There's no talking, no yelling, and no singing -- just the sound of Kerrington sucking her thumb. It's bliss.
Brooke sees her opening.
"Mom!" (Most everything she utters is exclamatory.)
"Don't bump into that other car!" She points to the single oncoming vehicle urgently. "And stay on the road!"
For a backseat driver, she's aiming relatively low, I think.
"You're welcome!" Brooke responds, satisfied, when we successfully pass the car without colliding or veering onto the berm.
Obviously, I couldn't have done it without her.