Hiding in the Jeep

When I was a kid, my dad used to bribe us with Yoohoos to run errands with him. I think Yoohoos are gross now, but when I was a kid, I loved them.

One such time, I went to the gas station with my dad to get milk and Yoohoos, and I waited in my dad's old Jeep Comanche while he got the goods. As I waited, a grand idea popped into my head. It would be really funny to hide behind the bench seat, and jump out when my dad got back to the car.

Oh, kids. They're so funny.

I pulled the lever to get the seat forward and climbed behind it, squishing my body among the jumper cables and bungee cords. Not much space, but with my left arm, I managed to pull the seat back to it's orginial position. It clicked.

I couldn't move.

I was pinched in. My neck was stuck awkwardly allowing me to peer over the edge of the seat. My left arm hung lifeless over the back of the seat, and my plans of jumping out to scare my dad were foiled. I humbly waited for his return.

As I watched him unlock his door, I saw something that I had never before seen in an adult.

A look of confusion and sheer panic washed across his face. The Jeep was empty. I was gone, possibly kidnapped from the car.

I was overwhelmed with shame for causing this emotional turmoil in my dad. I frantically waved my left arm, getting his attention. All this happened in a matter of seconds, but it impacted me for life. I never want to make anyone feel that kind of horror again.

The whole thing ended in laughter, seeing as I was uncomfortably squished behind a seat by my own volition. He drove me home that way. Just kidding. He let me out first.