In typical “boy” fashion, Felix loves anything with wheels. It’s pretty amazing, actually, just how innate this seems to be. The dude spends ages rolling cars, trucks, and trains around, making semi-appropriate sounds. Remember that moaning/growling thing I mentioned a while back? He’s converted that to a “car” sound. This means he does it even more now. It’s swell. (Mommy needs a drink and some earplugs)
Lately he’s been playing with this awful monster truck a lot. We’re not exactly a monster truck family, but one day when the dude and I were out shopping, I rolled him by the toy aisle at Target and let him pick whatever wheeled conveyance struck his fancy. He picked the Tasmanian Devil monster truck. It’s one of his favorites, along with his wooden bulldozer.
Tas has been running over all manner of things recently. Princesses. Human legs and feet. Snacks.
Where do they learn this stuff?! I do solemnly swear that this boy has never seen a truck pull or other such activity involving the violent compaction and/or destruction of various other objects by the pressure of ginormous tires. What’s next? Spitting? Grabbing his crotch? (Wait. He does that sometimes.) Whistling at women? Demanding a sandwich and beer?