Posts Tagged ‘
monster truck ’
Friday, April 26th, 2013
2 years, 5 months.
You are in the stage now where you’re piecing together catch phrases you hear Mommy and I say and incorporating them into your observations conversation.
Yesterday as I drove you home from school, I guess there was a gnat or something flying around you. This is what I heard:
“No way, bug! Get in the cheese!… You’re in trouble. No ma’am! Just chill out. Go find a home.”
From there, your conversation with the bug went from 2nd person perspective to 3rd person narration:
“The bug needs to find his parents. They hold him. They take care of him. That’s weird.”
I’m still a little confused about the cheese part. Do you want bugs to live inside of cheese wedges? Is that where they usually call their home?
The part I understand most from your conversation with/about the bug is this: The bug has a home where he belongs; where he has a Daddy and Mommy who love him.
Thanks, Son. That’s sweet of you to assume the bug’s parents love him the way Mommy and I love you.
I love your backseat radio show. That’s how I’m starting to think of it now.
In particular, I thought your rendition of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” was pretty creative:
“Twinkle, twinkle, purple monster truck…”.
As you would say, “That’s weird.”
Wednesday, April 3rd, 2013
2 years, 4 months.
These days, as I go through the dozens of pictures I take of you in a week’s time, it’s getting pretty difficult to find ones of you without your black monster truck.
It must have been fate that you received a duplicate Christmas gift, prompting Mommy and me to take you to the toy store and let you exchange it for whatever your heart desired.
At the very sophisticated Brilliant Sky toy store, which I jokingly refer to as a toy store for “gifted” kids, you appropriately chose… a black monster truck.
Tonight after dinner we let you indulge a little bit in some of your hard-earned Easter candy, which included some of Annie’s Bunny Fruit Snacks.
After enjoying some for yourself, you placed 3 of them in the cab of your monster truck and let them drive around 5 others in the bed of the truck.
Your relationship with your monster truck is starting to seem a little bromantic, even.
If you enjoy a snack or a treat, so does your monster truck. Not only do you eat with it, you sleep with it.
All of your favorite shirts have a monster truck on them.
As we drive together to school and work every morning, you fantasize about every “monster truck” (F-150′s with big tires) you see.
“That’s a monster truck! I drive it!”
Needless to say, we see a lot of “monster trucks” as we drive a total of an hour a day through the very manly city of Nashville, Tennessee.
Yesterday you saw a pick-up on truck on the side of the road. Your response:
“Oh no! His wheel fall off? He fix it?”
Because of the fact that part of your morning routine is to watch clips of monster trucks on YouTube, and sometimes when they flip over, one of their wheels flies off, you therefore assume that any time that any truck is pulled off to the side of the road, that guarantees that one of the truck’s wheels fell off.
Every morning as I unbuckle you from your car seat, you reluctantly let go of your monster truck and set it down on the empty seat next to you. “I play with my truck when you get back?”
Because of that, I try to make a habit of when I pick you up in the afternoon from daycare, to have the truck in my hand as soon as you see me.
There’s just somethin’ ’bout a truck and a 2 year-old boy.
Saturday, March 9th, 2013
2 years, 3 months.
You are a boy… and you definitely act like it. You make it so obvious that little boys are wired much differently than little girls.
It’s a rare sight to find you without some kind of overly masculine (and therefore predictably goofy) Hot Wheels car clenched tightly in your hand, whether it’s on the car ride to day care, watching Hard Hat Harry on Netflix at the house, or even navigating your way around any given playground.
At no point do you ever need me to tell you what little boys should like. You are currently obsessed with monster trucks, but it’s not something I prompted.
You just saw a toy monster truck one day and asked me, “I can like that? I take it home?”
The answer was obviously yes. Now you have like 7 of them.
One of your daily routines on the way to school now is to go through the colors of the rainbow in reference to monster trucks and/or Jeep Wranglers:
“I have a blue monster truck? I can drive it?”
I will reply, “Jack has a blue monster truck… He drives it!”
Next you’ll say the truck (or Jeep) is black, orange, purple, or even pink. Twice now you asked for a “dinosaur Jeep.” I’m still trying to figure that one out…
I contrast this against what I see the girls your age doing at daycare. They are always tending to either the baby dolls or the pretend kitchen and food; meanwhile the boys are wandering around, looking for trouble… I mean adventure.
It’s not that I have to stereotype little boys versus little girls. That’s just naturally how it ends up.
Even if you want to drive a pink monster truck or Jeep, the fact is still that you want to drive a monster truck or Jeep.
It would be different if you were fantasizing about a VW Bug, Mini Cooper, Mazda Miata, Dodge Neon, or a Toyota Rav 4.
I say you just can’t hide your masculinity, even behind the color pink.