Yeah, That's My Kid
The other night the Beaner and I were driving to Costco, and I was struck by how quiet and well-behaved he was there in the back seat. He didn't beg to watch DVDs, he didn't ask me to turn of NPR and let him listen to his music, he didn't drive me nuts with questions while I was trying to make a difficult merge. It was so pleasantly quiet that I almost felt guilty.
I think the quiet was partly due to the fact that it was the end of the day, and he was tired; partly because he's very interested in reading and writing now, and often spends time in the carseat quietly drawing pictures, writing notes, or reading signs; and partly due to a growing maturity. He has more command of himself now, and it makes me so proud.
He did speak up at one point to ask me about a McDonald's billboard that showed an egg dreaming of becoming an Egg McMuffin. "Why is that egg thinking about a sandwich?" he asked. "Um, I think the idea is that it's every egg's dream to become an Egg McMuffin. I think it's kind of a silly idea, really. If I were an egg, I might dream of becoming a goat cheese omelet, or, more likely, a chicken. But I don't think I'd dream of being an Egg McMuffin." He agreed it was kind of silly.
A few minutes later he said, "I'm hungry."
"I thought you *weren't* hungry.
"I know, I said I wasn't hungry when you asked me in the garage. I wasn't hungry then. I'm hungry now, though."
"Oh, OK. If you can wait until we get to Wegmans, we can eat there. If not, there might be a McDonald's along the way where we can get you a hamburger or something."
"No, I want an egg sandwich."
The billboards work, I thought. "Sadly, they only serve the egg sandwiches in the morning, honey. You can't get them at night."
"You know, I'm not sure. I bet if they did sell egg sandwiches all day, people would buy them."
"I'd buy one."
"I know, but sadly, no egg sandwiches are available right now. Maybe you could have a hamburger?"
"Sadly, there's nothing on the menu that I like *except* the egg sandwich."
Yeah, apparently I inject the word "sadly" into many of my parental explanations. And my son dished it right back at me.