When Nat was not too much bigger than this, I took the kart to a local, defunct manufacturing plant to ride. I would put her in my lap and make circuits around some old kart tires that I had laid around for cones. Once, as I was screaming around the lot, I saw her mouth moving as though perhaps she was trying to tell me something that I couldn't hear over the sound of the engine. There was a lot of loose pea gravel in the lot and I thought that perhaps a rock might have struck her face. I let off of the go pedal and asked, "Nat, are you ok?!"
"I'm SINGING, MASH THE GAS."