Ding-a-ling

The person I was riding with didn’t want to use her seat belt so her car kept dinging at her. She said to it, “I know, I know. You want me to put my seat belt on.”

I said wouldn’t it be nice if there were a dinging sound when you were about to eat the wrong thing or say the wrong thing?

I know — it’s called a conscience or an inner voice, but sometimes it doesn’t speak forcefully enough or you forgot that something was bad. Just a little helper.

Third cookie — ding, ding, ding! About to yell impatiently at your kids — ding, ding! At the grocery store and reaching for the processed cheese — ding, ding!

Yeah, it would drive a person — ding-y after a while, but by that time you might be hard-wired to do the right thing and not need it as much.

Until the time comes when we have the automated ding-er installed in our heads, I’ll have to just try to up the volume of my inner ding-er.