Trains And Planes, But No Automobiles

Well.

Summer vacation is in full swing around here, as evidenced by the fact that we got up bright and early to celebrate Summer Vacation, Day Two.

Except, it wasn’t really bright.  It was just early.  That’s because the sun tends to still be on China’s side of the globe at 1:30 in the morning here.  Thing 2 was ready to get up and build with Legos or go on an adventure, but his mother squashed his summer dreams by insisting that IT WAS THE STINKING MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.

Seriously?  Do I have the only time-challenged child walking this planet?  Who else has a kid who just wakes up at 1:30 in the morning and then goes back to sleep at 4:30 AM?  Raise your hand; come forward.  Let’s start a support group.  There will be strong coffee, and it’ll be a place where you’re safe to use cuss words.

Anyway.

Hubs took great pleasure in pulling Thing 2’s blankets off of him at 7:45 this morning, as he loudly announced, “Rise and shine!  You’re not gonna sleep in all morning, after partying all night!”  In other words, I think we’re fully prepared to handle the teenage years.

We ended up going to a free event at the local museum this morning.

The boy didn’t work at the golf course today, so we hauled him along with us.  One of my children went in Ralph Lauren and dress loafers, while the other one of my children went in a ratty Spider-Man T-shirt and his light-up cowboy boots, complete with REAL SPURS.

Yes.

REAL SPURS.

I had never actually even been to Small Town’s museum before, but lo!  I saw the AIRPLANE DAY FOR KIDS event advertised, and… since I have a kid who is nuts about airplanes… I signed him up, and off we went.  I had heard the tales that a dozen or so kids go to these little Summer Tuesdays at the Museum, so imagine my surprise when there were forty kids in attendance, who were all dragging a mother along with them.  Apparently, Airplane Day is a big deal around here.

The hostess started the event with a story about airplanes in Small Town, and how our airport came to be built.  In the middle of her book-reading, Thing 2 raised his hand and ever-so-very-much-politely asked, “Excuse me?  Do you see that picture of that giant train on the wall?  How old is it?”

Get distracted much?!

The nice lady told him that she was basically train-illiterate, but that he was welcome to ask at the front desk, so up my son stood.  He hollered across the crowd of children seated on the floor, to me… where I was standing clear in the back, trying to distance myself from him so that others wouldn’t know he was mine… “Hey, Mom!  I need to go to the front desk to find out about that train!”

What was that you asked?  IS OUR LIFE EVER DULL?  No.  No, it is not.

We convinced Thing 2 that this was AIRPLANE DAY, and that TRAIN DAY was actually not happening, so PLEASE!  Hush and listen to the story about how our local airport came to be.  When the story was finished, there was a craft for the kids to do:  BUILD YOUR OWN AIRPLANE.  I had told Thing 2 that we would be building one, because I had read the write-up online about the event.  He was convinced that he’d be using electrical wires and a soldering gun to build a drone that he could control remotely.  I crossed my fingers that he wouldn’t be overly disappointed with the small fact that the planes were being constructed out of wooden clothespins, with balsam wood wings, glue and cheap paint.

The boy helped Thing 2 build the airplane, and then he was off, because he had seen the giant model train encased in glass.

He spent the next thirty minutes staring at that detailed train, which was displayed amidst a model of Small Town’s hills and valleys.  He asked me how we could build one.  He asked me if we could BUY THIS ONE.  He asked me a thousand questions about trains, and then he finally had to go to the front desk and ask more about trains.  I’m not sure that the man working the front desk had ever been put to work quite like he was today, as  Thing 2 grilled him relentlessly about the displays.

The airplanes were forgotten, because… as much as our boy enjoys a plane… TRAINS are his real love language.

So now we’re just home this evening, trying to convince a six-year-old that building a train diorama isn’t one of my life goals, nor is it something on Hubs’ bucket list.

Happy Tuesday, y’all.  May your night be blessed with children who sleep, and no more questions about trains.

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