Posts Tagged ‘ toys ’

Patience Is A Virtue… That You’re Still Working On

Saturday, November 2nd, 2013

2 years, 11 months.

Dear Jack,

Two weeks from today, you’ll turn 3 years old. Today Mommy picked up a few Hot Wheels pick-up trucks as party favors for your very small birthday party coming up; the theme is “Trucks.”

The intention was for you to receive one of these party favors yourself, at the time of your actual birthday party.


You convinced Mommy to let you “just hold” your favorite truck out of the bunch, a brown 1987 Toyota.

That’s right, you carried it, in the package, all day, out in public. We went to your school’s Halloween party today, with each member of our family having to hold your in-the-package pick-up truck at some point.

As you were receiving candy and prizes from your teachers along the way, there we were carrying around a packaged toy.

On the drive home tonight, you announced, “Somebody said I can open it.”

You’re unsure of exactly who it was, of course. Being that the only other two people in the car were Mommy and me, it really made the “somebody” a real mystery.

By the time we walked in the front door, Mommy left it up to me. The ridiculous compromise we settled on was that we would let you open your truck, but we had to keep the package in tact and “pretend” to open it in front of your birthday guests so it would seem like a surprise to you too.

Patience is a virtue… that you’re still working on. But hey, so am I. Honestly, who’s not still working on that one?

It’s so hard to hold back sometimes, even though the timing just isn’t right yet.

I know I’ve lived that lesson more times than I wish to count.

The good news for you is, I don’t see a lot of repercussions with you privately opening your own birthday party favor two weeks early.

No one ever has to know, especially since we managed to open the package without tearing it too badly.









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Hey! Scout, Want To Come To My House Today and Play?

Sunday, October 6th, 2013

2 years, 10 months.

Dear Jack,

On the drive to school Friday morning, I heard you turn on your LeapFrog cell phone and start talking to My Pal Scout:

“Hey! Scout, want to come to my house today and play?”

After the call ended, you explained to me, “Daddy, Scout’s coming over for dinner and he’s sleeping in my bed tonight!”

I wanted to make sure it actually happened, even if you forgot about it later on in the day.

As soon as we got home, I reminded you about Scout coming over.

You can see here in this picture, you gave Scout a reminder call about the plans for the evening.

Minutes later, the doorbell rang.

“Jack! Come answer the door! It’s for you!” I yelled out from the other room.

You screamed with amazement.

There he was… Scout was waiting for you near the doorstep!

(And he happened to be sitting on a paper towel, for some reason.)

As I opened the door for you and Scout, I could see how surprised you were that Scout actually showed up after you called him on the phone!

By the time you made your way to the living room to play with him, though, you asked me with a confused look on your face, “I have two Scouts? Daddy, will you go get my other Scout upstairs?”

Oops. Busted.

So I did my best to explain that was the same Scout.

For me, the whole thing was an experiment to see how much of the story you’d go along with.

I wanted to know if you knew the whole thing was pretend, tracing all the way back to when you called Scout that morning.

Even now, I’m not totally sure. I mean, I’m pretty sure you know that I was just perpetuating your story line.

Either way, I was committed to make your make-believe story come true.

You said Scout was eating dinner with us and sleeping in the bed with you. So I had to make sure Scout “followed” you around, from playtime…

…to dinner…

  …to bedtime. 

You and Scout had a fun sleepover Friday night and it’s all because you called him and invited him over!

Plus, I might have had a thing or two to do with it.





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What’s Mine (From The ’80s) Is (Now) Yours

Wednesday, September 25th, 2013

2 years, 10 months.

Dear Jack,

Every time we visit my parents’ house, you take back with you a few souvenirs.

Typically, they are my old Hot Wheels from when I was about your age in the mid 1980s.

You now have so many toy cars that you regularly ask me:

“Daddy, where’d I get this one? It was yours when you was a boy?”

I’ll look over and see an orange paint-chipped Gremlin or Snoopy driving a tow truck (that was before Mater was cool) and reply, “That’s right: Nana and Papa got me that one when I was a boy, like you.”

You are lucky that my parents didn’t give away any of my childhood toys. So each time you visit their house, you can try out and even walk away with anything on display in the 1980s museum I grew up in.

“Hey, that’s a Smurf car!” you so excitedly announced, holding a red car being driven by Smurfette.

I guess you didn’t realize that Smurfs are in their offical comeback phase- that at one time, they were 20 times cooler than they are right now.

You like to take my ’80s cars into school each morning, only to store them in your cubby all day. I take it as a compliment. It’s your way of taking a piece of me with you each day when I can’t be with you.

Sure, it’s been a few decades since I’ve been a boy, but I can totally relate to your excitement about toys- especially ones from the ’80s.

It also subconsciously points to something we share in common: boyhood.

You recognize that I’m an adult, but you understand the concept that I was once a boy who was a lot like you:

I was a boy with an orange Gremlin and a Snoopy tow truck.






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Lesson From My Kid: When In Doubt or Danger, Make Stuff Up

Wednesday, September 25th, 2013

2 years, 10 months.

Dear Jack,

Now realizing that you have an understanding of what Angry Birds are and because I’m finding myself very entertained these days by your random answers, I asked you a loaded question:

Are Angry Birds mean?

Your response:

“They were mean, but Lightning McQueen said, ‘It’s okay!’ And Mater said that too…”.

When you quoted Lightning McQueen, it was in falsetto; which is always great.

Not only do you make up answers to weird questions I ask you, but here lately you have begun a hobby of making up words.

This past weekend, your great-uncle Al, who you call “Uncle Owl,” gave you a 5 pack of Hot Wheels cars.

Needless to say, you loved your gift.

Later, as he was leaving, you ran up to him and announced:

“Thanks for the Poagleys!”

I’m assuming “Poagleys” is a proper noun? Maybe it’s “poaglies” instead…

But after all, you’re the one who made up the word.

Another way you use made-up words is to censor yourself, to avoid getting in trouble:

“I don’t like… booshkahs… right now! No way, Daddy!”

What you really want to say is, “I don’t like you right now!”

Instead, in that moment, “booshkahs,” keeps you clean. It works; though I totally know what you’re doing.

It reminds me of the word “smurf.” It can be used as a verb, a noun, an adjective… pretty much any part of speech.

I wish I could just make up stuff when I either didn’t know what to say or knew what I wanted to say but knew better.

Well, I guess I could… but somehow in the adult world I have to participate in, I think that would just confuse people too much and ultimately proof ineffective.

As for you, you’re nearly 3 years old. At least you’ve got a good excuse.





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My Kid Thinks All Mustang Owners Are Racecar Drivers

Tuesday, September 24th, 2013

2 years, 10 months.

Dear Jack,

You can now correctly identify Ford Mustangs from across any intersection.

I didn’t teach you that- how did you learn that?

As we pulled into the school parking lot today, I remembered that one of your teachers, Ms. Debbie, owns a Mustang- so I parked next to it so you could see one up close.

You proudly posed for your picture next to it.

“She drives a Mustang racecar? We go to the race? I want to see Ms. Debbie race,” you told me.

When we got inside, I explained to Ms. Debbie that you believe she is a racecar driver.

It was a classic moment for me, getting to relate that hilarious information to her.

She was flattered… I think.

Then when I came to pick you up at the end of the day, I saw another Mustang convertible in the parking lot.

I had totally forgotten that another one of your teachers, Ms. Chastity, also drivers one too!

You didn’t know what to think after learning that…

Two of your teachers are racecar drivers, because, after all:

All Mustangs are racecars, therefore the people who drive them are automatically racecar drivers who compete in races.

Even now, I’m afraid to disappoint you by making the truth clear about your teachers and their Mustangs.

I’d rather you just believe that two of your teachers race each other each weekend at the Nashville Speedway.

As I parked the car at our house this afternoon, I reminded you that you have a blue toy Mustang with all your other cars in our living room.

“I do?!” you answered, very surprised.

Needless to say, you had a very exciting and pleasant dinner tonight, with your Mustang accompanying you.

I am going to be amazed if you don’t end up becoming a major car enthusiast.

It really makes me curious what you’ll have for your first car.

Well, we still have another 13 years to figure that out.

Until then, you keep doing your research. Who knows?

Maybe you’ll end up driving (and therefore, racing) a Mustang!









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