We had just returned from the local toy
store from our old town. Yes,
there are still a few left. There were actually two in that
area.
My son issued a mandate and was quite adamant that it was top
priority.
“Daddy! This is an important job. You need to
send
this out on the computer to everybody in our
town.
My son is 3 1/2, actually just about 4 years old, and in his world
trucks, dirt, and trains rule. Especially Thomas the Tank
Engine trains.
And we had just purchased “Henry's
tunnel”, which has been discontinued
for years. So you can understand my son's excitement.
Now I'm not one of those that buys toys for my kids to just look at.
You know, keep it in the box so it doesn't lose its value while it
sits
on a shelf in a kid's room collecting dust. So yes, all Hess
trucks are
fair game. Boxes are open and even discarded. If they brake…well,
they brake. The child only cries because they broke a favorite toy,
not
because Mommy and Daddy can't believe they broke that toy that in 20
years would have bought 1/4 of a college textbook for said
child.
So “Henry's Tunnel” was apparently from the 1996 Thomas the Tank
Engine
collection. Which, to my son my as well be, the Bronze Age. My
“important job” as he put it was to share with everyone a picture of
the Thomas the Tank Engine lineup for 1996.
My son also told me how he's no longer going to include Q when singing
the alphabet. He wasn't clear about the reason why. Perhaps it has
something to do with that whole “U
always follows Q” rule, which I'm
sure back in the day was as hotly contested as the designated hitter
rule in baseball. And since spelling to him, is not nearly as
important
as digging, I'll spare him the exception of proper nouns like Qatar
until he's older.
In fact, given recent events, I'd like to avoid any mention of the
Middle East to my son for quite some time.
I should mention that he also likes to jump from 11 right to 14 when
counting. I remind him of the existence of 12 and 13, but he tells me
he knows that, but just doesn't want to say those.
You'll know if my son has become an architect someday, when you report
to your office on the 17th floor, and realize you're only 15 stories
up.