My son’s love affair with all things wheeled continues. While playing at home this past weekend, he strode through the debris (in their pent-up frustration, my children upended every toy bin and emptied every toy cabinet in the house) with a large bucket, picking up his trucks. It was actually cute and incredibly encouraging -HE’S CLEANING UP! – until he amassed whatever quantity he had been going for and dumped them out on the floor again. At least the trucks were in a single pile rather than spread out all over the living room.
Will has been moonlighting at the book store at night an awful lot so he’s not around much during the week to hang out with us and play with the kids. This past Wednesday, he was actually home. He and Felix played trucks on the floor for a nice long time. It made me happy. Ever since, Felix keeps bringing him trucks trying to entice him to play. Truthfully, I think Will enjoys Stella a bit more at this stage of the game, so when we’re splitting kid duty Felix becomes “mine.” And to be fair, Stella doesn’t do that awful moaning-growling thing all the time. For hours at a time. In Felix-land, the moaning-growling is now the sounds of the trucks. You can’t blame him for giving his beloved trucks a voice.
I am a bit worried, however, that all the car movies and cartoons we’ve been “enjoying” lately might be confusing him. The common denominator amongst all of these franchises is that the vehicles are anthropomorphic, whether you’re talking Lightning McQueen, Mater, or Thomas the Tank Engine.
I think Felix is trying to make his vehicles bipedal. He keeps doing this:
I’m not setting a place at the table for the wooden bulldozer or Taz the Monster Truck no matter what. I don’t care if they are his “friends.”