I've got this two year old who has an obsession with organizing his toy cars. The rules seem to be that all cars must face the same direction, and they have to be on a narrow ledge of some sort. Which is a great thing when he's the only child here; I give him a can of fifty-odd little metal cars and he will spend an hour very carefully lining them up. When other children come along, he gets a little disturbed. Back away from the cars! You're throwing the universe out of alignment!
May 2, 2009
Of Cars and Kittens
He's also picked up this great habit from my husband–chewing ice. We've had him since he was tiny, and so I can honestly blame this on Dad (as he calls him). He gets a cup and instructs me very sternly–and at the top of his very large voice: "I want ahhhhs! I want ahhhs!" until I get him a big cup of crushed ice. Filled just so. It's obnoxious when I'm busy, and he drips all over the house, but he's happy. Cars and ice. Change his behind, refuel his belly and throw him a ball every once in a while and he's happy.
We have him late into the evenings and on weekends, and so he's become one of the family. We take him everywhere we go, and my boys get ego boosts from his hero worship and general amusement from tricking him into thinking their hair is on fire or their thumbs are detachable.
I love this kid. I really do. It happens without my consent, but it happens, every time; usually right before the family decides to relocate to another country or some state really far away. Anyway. For now, he's here, and he's at that age where personality really starts to shine through and I love that I get to make his acquaintance.
So today everyone else has gone home; the sun is at that point in the sky that makes you stay out a few minutes longer watching the shadows even though dinner is half made and baths are waiting. I'm sitting there feeling the sun and watching this lone kid play with the kittens, and I'm trying to figure out what he's doing.
He's serious; very determined. He keeps picking them up and putting them down and going back for more kittens and what is this kid doing? When they get up he pushes their little rear ends down very firmly and talks gibberish.
They get up, run away, climb over one another, but one by one, they just lay down and go to sleep. Pretty soon, he sits back with a satisfied look on his face, and I finally get it–he's got them all lined up on the threshold of the patio door; facing the same direction, on a narrow ledge. The universe has been aligned, and all is well.