If you give a carseat a mouth... (aka, if carseats could talk)

Last night, after a milkshake incident gone horribly wrong, I decided it was finally time to throw out X's booster seat (noone panic, I have a spare!) As I was putting it into the garbage bag this morning, I couldn't help but think of all that seat has gone through and seen over the past couple of years.  As mom to one school aged child and nanny to four tweens and teens, I have spent a LOT of time in that car (the nanny van, as the kids call it) and by result a lot of time with that booster seat. That seat has seen me at my best, singing (ok, my singing is not THE best, but I am usually at my best while singing,) laughing and joking with the kids, handing out snacks, drinks and occasional meals (while safely stopped at a red light...mostly) listening and (as needed, whether desired or not) giving advice, helping with homework... And that seat has seen me at my worst, yelling (yes, sometimes I yell, though there is always regret,) hurting feelings, going too far with a joke, texting while driving (before it was a felony of course,) spilling soda everywhere (this happens a lot for some reason,) crying because I've hurt feelings or gone too far with a joke, crying at every song on the radio, crying because X didn't get into Monarch Academy, crying because X did get into Monarch Academy, (you get the point, I've done a lot of crying in that car.) If that booster seat could talk I think it could tell you just about everything there is to know about me and who I really I am. But alas it sat there all the while, never complaining, despite all the noise, ruckus, potty accidents, emotional outbursts of all sorts, singing (sorry) and endless showers of  slurpees, icees, crushed goldfish and finally milkshake it had to endure. Thank you orange booster, you wore it well! My secrets die with you...