When Eli is at school, I get to fill his role as playmate for Evan. Mommy (usually) fights less, but she’s so much less interesting. And she just doesn’t get it.
On Wednesday Evan decided that we would play cars. He gave me my allotment and told me to name them. So I started naming them: “Bob. Willie. Mary. Delilah.”
Evan smiled at me like I had a screw loose. He handed me another one and suggested a fitting name: “Fire.”
“No,” I replied, “I think I’ll name it Jennifer.”
He tried another suggestion as he handed me a truck, “Stripes. See? It has stripes.”
“No, this one is Esther.”
“You mean Esther the Brave Queen?” Apparently that name passed. Being brave royalty and all.
He suggested that I call the next one with a blazing pony on the side “Horsepower.”
Finally I named my last car “Twila.” (In honor of you, Mom.) This was the ensuing conversation:
Evan: It looks like Twila.
Me: You mean it looks like Nana?
Evan: Yeah.
Me: Why?
Evan: Because the windshield is in front.
I have no idea. But I’m sure it was a compliment.
Then Evan said, “Okay, now play with them.”
Me: “How?”
Mom just doesn’t get it, does she? And she’s got such a short attention span when it comes to playing with cars. But she’s thankful for a very tolerant son.
3 comments:
Ah,Ah, what can I say but do I ever miss those little boys brought tears to my eyes the blue pillow and all. And about the windshild???not like I really stick out front do I?:):) thanks for the pictures and the boys doing their jobs. We so wish we could come for Cellos funeral?
Great story.
You are soo hilarious! I love it! Good for you, playing cars with your son. :)
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