Don’t take your kids car shopping the next county over during the witching hour of 5 to 6 on a school night.
Don’t hand your 4-year-old a bag of Cheetos from the gas station as a tide her over until dinner snack and expect her to keep her orange little hands off every! car! on the lot! Don’t touch that Mercedes convertible!
Don’t go car shopping on an evening when it’s in the 30s and windy because you’ll never want to get out of the warm toasty car you’re test driving.
Don’t discount the educational value of your children witnessing a total stranger winning a thousand bucks on a scratch off lottery ticket at aforementioned gas station (a real life lesson in economics AND an introduction to petty gambling 101 which may come in handy some day if you take your kids to Tunica.)
Don’t forget your 4-year-old has an uncanny ability to trip the I GOTTA GO POTTY MOMMY alarm at the most inopportune times, like the second the car dealership manager approaches you about financing.
Don’t let your kids turn the backseat of your new SUV into a trash can. I’ve fished enough Dum Dum sucker sticks from the crevices of my old car to start a small bonfire.
p.s. We did end up driving home a new (to us) shiny red Ford Explorer Wednesday night. This shopping trip was actually much smoother than our 2008 episode when Miss A locked herself in the car dealer owner’s office. Oh heck yes SHE DID.