Nels has been playing with a half dozen 25-cent cars I bought him in Port Townsend shortly before we moved. They are one of the few toys that are his – I’m trying not to feel guilty that at age five and almost-three my children share a room.
But their life, their sharing, seem to go well. Sophie is sad the other morning because I tell her to let Nels play with cars and please don’t just grab them out of his hands. Stung, she tearfully subsides and watches. Nels turns to her: “Do you want orange?” (Lord help me never remember the way Nels is prone to pronounce this adjective: “or-ents”) he asks, holding one out. Sophie takes the car and, overcome with gratitude, silently hugs him.
Businesslike, Nels asks me, “Do you want green?” and gives me a green car. That’s all settled, then – he flips one of his cars over and says, “This one’s on fire“. (“fi-wre”, in Nels’ parlance).
Glad we got that all figured out – a flaming death-trap of a car.
He is also obsessed with Scissor Sisters’ “Take Your Mama” and constantly asks me to play it and hold him while he sings it. He heard the song once and instantly fell in love. It’s growing on me, too.