At least you would've died in style.

When i grew up, my friends parents owned a farm that was on top of a mountain, it was like a 10min drive up there on backroads. They drove around a beater car, something like a Suzuki swift. Sometimes we were allowed to ride on the hood, like a bunch of criminals in a 80's action movie. I remember sitting on the roof once, holding on for dear life. I never really thought much about it, but i would never do that with my nephew. Not because i think they are soft and we were such a hard ass generation, because i don't want to kill a child. It happens so fucking fast