It was one of those mornings. My two year old was fussy. I was fussy. He was trying to play and I was trying to fold laundry. Neither was going too well.

He’s a typical little boy. He likes trains, planes and, of course, cars. At Christmas, he got his first and only Matchbox car. It’s blue and harkens back to the design styles of the mid-1970s. He carries this little car around with him everywhere. He also likes to drive it under things: under the sofa, under the table, and under the refrigerator. It’s been under the fridge for a few days now; this morning, little boy decided he wanted to play with “car” again.

So SuperMom got the flashlight and a coat hanger and braved the inch thick dust. I retrieved the car and all was well.

We went back to working/playing. In a few minutes, my son came to me with a puzzled look. “Car?”

No car.

He came from the direction of the kitchen so my first thought was “under the fridge”.

No car.

I checked under the washing machine, dryer, portable dishwasher.

No car.

My son was a little tearful at this point. So I decided to try the distraction method: clean diaper, Itsy Bitsy Spider, Wheels on the Bus, If You’re Happy and You Know It. We sang the entire preschool catalog. That helped.

So we went back to the kitchen to fix lunch. My son went into my husband’s office which is adjacent to the kitchen. He pointed down to the rug in the middle of the room (in plain view) and said “car”.

And there it was.

I laughed.


~ by hannahcsykes on May 11, 2007.

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