I was in the dining room, squatting down to look at something on the bottom shelf of our baker’s rack. I didn’t even see it coming.
A very large car starts moving over my back and shoulders.
Wait, let me back up. My son is obsessed with cars. It’s really anything with wheels. If an object has wheels, he must have it.
Earlier this month, he threw a fit over a rain gauge that had a tractor on it. When I finally figured out what he wanted, I got it down for him. And then he threw a fit because the wheels wouldn’t move on the stupid thing. It was the funniest and most pitiful thing, all at the same time. He was so disappointed that the wheels were immobile.
So we have these cars (Ridemakerz, which we LOVE) that have been sitting on top of our stereo since last Christmas. After we got home from Missouri, the boy noticed them. As in, would not stop until we got them down for him. Point, whine. Point, stomp feet, whine. Repeat. I really don’t mind him playing with them, so I got them down for him.
And they have not left his side since. He even sleeps with them now. These cars are not small. They’re about 10-12 inches long. But he loves them and runs them all over the place.
So this car starts running across my back. I’m leaning over enough that he can balance the car on my shoulder and it will stay. So he leaves the car there so he can go get the other one. He brings it back and runs it all over my back, too.
I’m amused, but also glad there are no cameras around.
I think that I’m my son’s favorite playground. He’s constantly running his hot wheels cars all over me, too. Or when I’m laying in the floor, he crawls across me. Over. And over. And over.
So I’m a jungle gym. Or a car track. Or just a really soft play toy.
And I actually love every minute of it. Being a mom is so cool.