G is saving up his money. The
decision has been made. Nothing but the
Escalade will do.
It all began at the park. G and
another boy played together for a while.
Then the boy indicated that his dad should get something from their car.
Out came a giant remote controlled monster truck.
The boy started driving it. G
stood, rapt, tracking every move.
Time passes. Periodically, the
dad asks the son, “Do you want to let G have a turn now?” G waits, full of anticipation. The boy keeps driving. Every now and then, the dad comments to me “He’s
at that egocentric age” or “We’re hoping he learns to share soon.” Then – “Do you want to let G have a turn now?” The boy keeps driving.
I understand that disaster is very very close. It’s time for G and me to leave the
park. I announce: “5 more minutes!”
“Do you want to let G have a turn now?”
The boy keeps driving.
“Ok, G. Time’s up. We have to go.”
I am prepared for what’s next – running away, yelling, defiance.
Instead, G places his hand in mine and we turn toward our car. We make it halfway when G begins to sob –
anguished heartbreak. He continues
walking (oh what progress we’ve made!),
sobbing. I don’t know how long it
lasts. 6-year-old devastation. And incredulity. It would never occur to G not to share. Truly.
The meanness rocks him.
At home, G asks me, “That dad – where did he say dat monster truck came
from?”
"There’s a store called Toys R Us….” Three years in the USA and I’ve withheld the knowledge of Toys R Us
from him. Until now.
An excursion was planned. That store is insanity. Right?
G loved the vehicles aisles (yes. plural.). He found a great remote controlled monster
truck.
But everything else faded when we got to the battery-powered kid-sized
vehicle aisle. G sat in every car. Each next car was THE car for him. Until he spotted the Silver Cadillac
Escalade. Done. Not even the police car would sway him. The Escalade would be his ride.
The fact that it cost over $300?
“Das ok cause I can save my money.”
The fact that G earns $1-$2 per week?
“Das ok cause I can save.”
The fact that we have no garage to keep it in? “Das ok cause Joey (next door neighbor) has a
garage and I can park it there.”
The fact that our neighbors have no extra room in their garage? “Das ok.
I find a place.”
The quest has begun. I’ll keep
you posted.
p.s. If you happen to be G's grandmother, please do NOT send over a Silver Cadillac Escalade. Unless you send a garage with it. Thank you.
