"It's broken," my three-year old says, rather dejectedly. He's holding up one of his favorite toys, which has been broken since the day he first got his hands on it. It's an old tractor wagon (HotWheels size) that once belonged to my older brother (who's 34 and probably received it some time in the late 1970s). The blue tractor that came with it, also from my brother's collection, has long since been lost by my son.
"Yes, baby," I agree, without the least bit of surprise. "It's broken." You see, just about any trailer that enters our house is broken within minutes or hours of it's arrival. Our three rough-and-tumble boys cannot seem to keep from pulling and pushing too hard and breaking either the pin that holds things together or the hitch where you attach it. We have two large John Deere tractors and a big Ford truck that all had a hitches to pull trailers at one time. Two smaller (HotWheels size) trucks also share this fate.
"Connor needs a new one!" he adds thoughtfully, looking up at me expectantly. "Go to the store?" he asks. Clearly I am expected to take him out to the store and pick one up, you know, RIGHT NOW.
"Not now, baby," I say. "We'll look and see next time we go." And if I had entertained thoughts of him forgetting about this careless little phrase (I was in the middle of cooking dinner last night), I was sadly mistaken. I've been asked about it no less than five times today.
"Go to store today?" he asks, holding the little broken wagon up in his hand for me to see yet again. When it gets a quiet negative, he offers "Maybe tomorrow?"
Perhaps going back to school tomorrow will help him forget about his little wagon!
