05 May 2006
we don't need no stinkin' buses
Five could take the bus in the morning. He likes it, in fact. And it'd be a whole lot more convenient for me if he did.
But I'd miss so much.
Today, we were mired in traffic next to an eighteen-wheeler, a vehicle that has for Five the status that a T-Rex has for most boys his age. He's almost obsessed. Every truck that goes by is evaluated for number of tires. After several near-misses and disappointments, we finally are idling right next to one.
"Boy, thassa big truck."
Moderately distracted Mom (is the apparently inebriated apparently homeless person going to cross now or is the conversation with invisible parties so fascinating that she'll be detained until just the exact moment I am finally getting through the crosswalk?): "Yeah, they're pretty big, aren't they?"
Five: "Lotta stuff not that big."
Immoderately distracted Mom (yikes! where did that motorcycle come from?? hasn't he ever heard of lane markers????): "Good point, honey."
Five: "Is bigger dan da sun."
Schoolmarm-voiced Mom (will I be able to make this next light?): "Well, actually, no, honey--the sun is really big. Bigger than the planet."
Five: "What's 'planet'?"
Schoolmarm-voiced Mom (bicycles are not pedestrians! quit zooming across the street in crosswalks--get off and walk it across!): "The earth. The earth is a planet. And the sun is bigger than the earth, a lot bigger. It's just so far away it looks small."
Five: "Planet means 'globe'?"
Veering-toward-impatient-voiced Mom (stupid bleepin' 18 blinkin' wheeler--made me miss the blip-blop light): "Um, yes. The globe looks like our planet."
Five (giving Ignoramus Mom up for a dead loss): "Hmph. We gotta globe in my class, Mom. I ees bigger dan da globe."
But I'd miss so much.
Today, we were mired in traffic next to an eighteen-wheeler, a vehicle that has for Five the status that a T-Rex has for most boys his age. He's almost obsessed. Every truck that goes by is evaluated for number of tires. After several near-misses and disappointments, we finally are idling right next to one.
"Boy, thassa big truck."
Moderately distracted Mom (is the apparently inebriated apparently homeless person going to cross now or is the conversation with invisible parties so fascinating that she'll be detained until just the exact moment I am finally getting through the crosswalk?): "Yeah, they're pretty big, aren't they?"
Five: "Lotta stuff not that big."
Immoderately distracted Mom (yikes! where did that motorcycle come from?? hasn't he ever heard of lane markers????): "Good point, honey."
Five: "Is bigger dan da sun."
Schoolmarm-voiced Mom (will I be able to make this next light?): "Well, actually, no, honey--the sun is really big. Bigger than the planet."
Five: "What's 'planet'?"
Schoolmarm-voiced Mom (bicycles are not pedestrians! quit zooming across the street in crosswalks--get off and walk it across!): "The earth. The earth is a planet. And the sun is bigger than the earth, a lot bigger. It's just so far away it looks small."
Five: "Planet means 'globe'?"
Veering-toward-impatient-voiced Mom (stupid bleepin' 18 blinkin' wheeler--made me miss the blip-blop light): "Um, yes. The globe looks like our planet."
Five (giving Ignoramus Mom up for a dead loss): "Hmph. We gotta globe in my class, Mom. I ees bigger dan da globe."
