Got back pretty late last night from a Kids in Safe Seats (KISS) meeting. I *think* I managed not to volunteer to do anything extra this month, other than send a few emails and check on a couple of things (I already do a bunch of stuff with regards to coordinating volunteers and setting up training). I have a bad tendancy of mistaking a level playing field for a wide-open space and add things to my plate when, quite frankly, I’m already looking at a well-balanced meal.

KISS is one of those worth-while causes, though, that I cheerfully donate several hours a month to. What we do is put carseats in properly and teach people how to put their carseats in their vehicles. Sounds simple, right? The problem is that when it’s not done right, the results can be catastrophic and when it’s not done at all, the results are generally fatal. Nine times out of ten, it’s not done right.

Most of the time, it’s not because parents don’t care. Generally it has to do with how (pardon the language here, folks) friggin’ annoying and fiddly the damned seats can be. Getting them in right ought to be easy and ought to be a matter of simply following the manual. Manuals, however, are highly variable in their legibility and coherency and cannot possibly entirely account for the other variable in the equation, the shape of the car.

So we hold monthly clinics where a goodly bunch of concerned citizens, some parents, some not, instruct parents on the proper usage of carseats. Sounds like a strange charity to pick to volunteer for, hmm?

Not so much.

This is my daughter, Katherine.

This is our car, that we and Katherine were in, when we found ourselves UPSIDE DOWN on the Salmonier Line almost two years ago.

 

These are the people who gave their time freely to show us how to install the seat and to check that we had done it right, both before the accident (preventing at least serious injury) and after the seat had been replaced, post-accident (seats can only take one smack and they’re no good).

  

It’s a no-brainer, right?

If you want to pitch in, drop KISS a line.