Thank God she lived and died before the coming of Health and Safety and the nanny state.

From Trying to Please by John Julius Norwich.  Page 35.

 The best part of going into Bognor was the drive. It was the antithesis of driving with my grandmother. My mother had a succession of extremely dashing cream convertibles which—unless it was actually pouring with rain—she always drove with the hood down. This was ideal for me since, apart from anything else, it kept the carsickness at bay. If I wanted more air still, she encouraged me to sit on the top of the seat with my feet where my bottom should have been, my head sticking up a foot or two above the windscreen. (Today she would be stopped by the first policeman and told that children must travel in the back securely strapped in and probably facing backwards—and I can just imagine the ensuing outburst. Thank God she lived and died before the coming of Health and Safety and the nanny state.) Our favorite—sometimes our only—stop was a blue-jerseyed old salt on the sea front called Billy Welfare, from whom she bought lobsters, crabs, and prawns that he had caught only an hour or two before. Then we would head for home. As we swung through our gate she would probably drop me off at the Lodge for my “dinner” and then, with much revving of engine (because she knew it amused me) and more crunching of gravel she would shoot off round the bend in the drive to deliver her purchases proudly to Mrs. Wales.