Picture the scene....
Bunny is in a quandary... there are two venomous snakes on the loose, and only his friend Moray Eel to help him escape...*
Bunny: Perhaps we should show the snakes things outside the car window and they'll be distracted and not bite us?
Moray Eel: But what if they don't like what we show them? They might get cross and bite us!
Bunny: Oh dear. Maybe we should stay very quiet and still and hope they don't notice us?
Moray Eel: They can sense the heat from our bodies and can find us and bite us!
Bunny: Oh help! If we show them what's outside they might bite us, and if we stay quiet they might bite us.
<silence from the back seat>
LittleBear: It's a sandwich!
Not being able to see LittleBear without craning my head to the point of no longer being able to see the traffic, this causes a certain amount of confusion. It's entirely possible Bunny is now sandwiched between two snakes. Or between LittleBear's hands. Or between any number of other peculiar objects - there are a lot to choose from in my car. It's not inconceivable that LittleBear has spotted the festering remains of an actual sandwich in the car**.
Bunny: What sandwich?
Moray Eel: A sandwich of problems! If we talk to them, they might bite us, but if we don't... they might bite us. And we're in the middle of two problems!
Never mind being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Never mind a dilemma, or a paradox or the lesser of two evils. Never mind a lose-lose situation, or being stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea, or being in a tight spot. My world is now going to be defined as containing Sandwiches of Problems.
* For those who may concerned about what habitat is simultaneously inhabited by a moray eel, a rabbit and two snakes, these are sea snakes, and this bunny is currently a Sea Bunny. Sometimes he is an Arctic Bunny, sometimes a Prehistoric Bunny, very rarely a common or garden bunny, and on this occasion a Sea Bunny.
** If you have a small child and you do not have an unspeakable assortment of crumbs, fruit peel, unidentifiable corners of something that might once have been edible, and equally unidentifiable corners of things you hope weren't ever edible, then you are either incredibly uptight about keeping your car clean or you sedate your children before inserting them into the car. In my experience, any journey lasting more than 13 minutes is almost guaranteed to require a snack. It only takes one journey in which you have forgotten to provide said snack and you will never, ever, ever forget again. Which is why my car has two packets of rice cakes, one packet of rich tea biscuits and assorted small tupperware boxes containing other (relatively) non-perishable snacks. And those are just the things I can reach from the driver's seat to cast over my shoulder to LittleBear. I'm not quite sure what's tucked into the sides of his chair at the moment. I don't think I want to know either.