I was relating this story to my husband last night and I was cracking up so hard I could hardly get the words out.
When I was about 11 years old my mother, brother and I went to the local Thrifty store for an ice cream cone. We got into the car to leave with me in the backseat and my brother in the front passenger seat. Back in those days seatbelts weren't mandatory and my brother had a habit of sitting with his back up against the door. We had an old, red '78 two door Dodge Aspen my mother called Old Red (or Nelly depending on her mood) Anyway as my mother backed out of the parking spot the door on the passenger seat came open. My brother went with and was hanging onto the door handle with one hand and the seat with the other. My mother panicked and instead of stopping the car, she drove the rest of the way down the aisle and when she got to the end she drove in a circle going probably about 2 miles an hour. The whole time she's driving she's yelling, "Hold on Ryan! Just hold on until I can stop!" I sat and laughed my butt off in the backseat hoping he would fall out so I could see the results. She did finally stop and help him into the car and then got mad at me for not helping her!
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