My
eight-year-old son, like his big brother only a second ago,
feels compelled to bring armfuls of toys on any ride with an
expected duration of more than three minutes.
"Wait,
Mom, please!" he shouts as he runs back into the house
for the three-headed, golden dragon he nearly forgot. We thoroughly
utilize the handy, mesh, backseat pockets as temporary housing
for legless Lego men, Fred the Squiggy Seahorse and his entourage
and a slew of generic action guys that are enthusiastically
banged together accompanied by the thrashing, grunting and battle
sound effects only little boys can create.
Peaks
in the rearview mirror show duels to the death between The Incredible
Hulk and Spiderman. G.I. Joe's been on many a dangerous, secret
mission and I've heard snatches of anachronistic conversations
between pterodactyls and Dragon Ball Z characters from my back
seat. Wars are won and lost en route to the supermarket, life
lessons learned on the way to buy school shoes, and imaginations
allowed to soar as my guys listen to music or play inventively
without the all-too-common distractions of computers, TV or
video games.
So
I once had a cockroach in my car. Big deal. A petrified French
Fry, a bug carcass and a party bag chocolate wrapper here and
there are small prices to pay when you have a little boy who
not only cherishes his toys, but you as well and proves it daily
with kisses, hugs and "I love you"s when you need
them the most.
My
wonderful sons will both soon give up toys all together. In
a blink of an eye they'll be into bigger playthings - like their
own cars. They'll cringe at the thought of driving with a mother
who, already to the older one's chagrin I can sadly tell, hums
along to alternative rock groups despite being a mom AND over
40.
For
now, when I discover a lone warrior arm wedged into the A/C
vent, find a Hershey kiss squished into the floor mat or flinch
at the occasional heavy metal tune that makes my head ache,
I'll shrug my shoulders nonchalantly. I'll remind myself just
how fortunate I am to be riding with my boys and their toys
and observing them growing up in the back seat of my car.
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