This morning, lying on the floor in the living room in Marion.
Yesterday I bribed Whit to nap with a new toy and some cheez-it crackers. I’m ashamed and delighted to say it worked like a charm: he lay down in the king bed in my sister’s room and I lay down next to him and he was quiet for 20 minutes as his eyes slowly drifted shut. He slept for 2.5 hours and I finally woke him up at 4:30.
The new toy is a plastic track with a Cars theme (licensing fees no doubt account for the high price of what is just a piece of plastic). I was very proud of myself when I assembled the track, put in the batteries, and made it work. Even required a trip to the dark, musty basement to find a right-sized Phillips head screwdriver.
Anyway the thing is horrible. It is incredibly noisy and also super boring: it just flings a car around the track in a figure 8 at high speed. Of course he’s been playing with it non-stop. This morning he couldn’t make it turn on and started whining.
Whit: “Mummy! My new toy isn’t working!” (extend all syllables in high pitched whine to really appreciate this)
Grace: “No, Whit! Just bang it really hard – just punch it – and it will work.”
Whit: sharp fist to plastic, followed by “Ouch!” (and I’m waiting for the thing to fall apart)
And lo and behold it started working again.
And then this:
Grace: “Nobody will play cards with me, Mummy.” (I can’t face another game of Crazy Eights or Go Fish or I will poke my eyes out)
Whit: “la la la di dah” (just making noise)
Grace: “Whit, if you don’t play cards with me I won’t invite you to my birthday party.”
Whit: “Okay.”
Am now witnessing sheer comedy as she tries to teach him how to play Go Fish. Needless to say it’s a little above his head but man she is determined (and bossy! wonder where that comes from?).
