This is the third letter in a row I’ve written you that simply tells about some of the accidentally hilarious things you have said here recently.
It’s easy material for me, I have to be honest. I’m not making this stuff up… youare.
I mean, you’re asking good questions. In fact, I probably asked my dad similar questions when I was three.
At some point, someone had to set me straight on these facts. For you, this is beginning to be that point.
A few days ago on the drive home from school, you asked, “Daddy, does my name have a ’5′ in it?”
I explained to you that our names have letters in them, but not numbers.
So you immediately followed up with, “Daddy, what about ’1′? Does my name have a ’1″ in it?”
The first thing that came to mind was Star Wars characters, like C-3PO and R2-D2.
It wasn’t until this morning when you and I were playing in your bedroom with trains that I discovered what might have led to your confusion about numbers in our names.
You pressed the button on top of your talking Gordon train:
“I’m Gordon… I’m the Number 4 blue engine!”
Got it. Makes sense now.
Still though, I think you’re secretly hoping that you’re going to meet somone with a number in their name. I’m not saying it’s completely impossible.
Between some of the off-the-wall names I’ve been hearing parents name their kids (I won’t use examples, as to not come across as judgmental) and Russians (who use what looks like a 3 and a 4 as letters in their alphabet), you may one day meet someone with a number in their name.
For now, we can pretend your name has a number in it, if you want to.
Last week your teacher at school introduced you and your classmates to a new concept: that not all food is healthy.
Since then, you have been asking me if every single food item you can think of is healthy or not.
“Is ice cream healthy, Daddy?” you genuinely asked me.
The same happened about cookies, too.
You later asked me about cheesy crackers, though you didn’t bother to ask about cake. However, for some reason, you’ve yet to ask me if vegetables, like broccoli and carrots, are healthy.
I snapped a few shots of your health-related project at school.
You had to decide which pictures, cut out from magazines, best resembled the kinds of foods we regularly buy each week when we get groceries, by placing the cut-outs in a paper sack.
I had to laugh at yours, compared to your friends.
Yours was so… politically correct, as the token vegetarian kid of the class:
Bell peppers, blueberries, tomatoes, and apples. That’s it and that’s all.
What I learned from this is that you are definitely paying attention when Mommy and I pick out the fruits and veggies at Whole Foods. Beyond that? Not so much.
You didn’t choose pasta, bread, beans, or rice, which are all staples in your diet. Just bell peppers, blueberries, tomatoes, and apples.
I’m pretty sure you were the only kid to not include meat in your brown grocery sack.
But with your selection, you made it look like our family is a bunch offruitarians.
(Yes, that’s a real thing! And yes, technically, bell peppers and tomatoes are considered fruits, depending on who you ask.)
One day you’ll fully understand what meat is. All you know is that the other kids at school eat it but you don’t- you either get soy butter or veggie patties instead- which you love, by the way.
You always think I’m joking when I try to explain what the butchered meat is at Whole Foods. You ask me each week, ‘Daddy, what’s that red stuff?”
But hey… as long as we’ve got bell peppers, blueberries, tomatoes, and apples, though; that’s apparently all we need anyway.
You are in a stage right now where you’re having a lot of fun learning which words are “nice words” to use.
“Is ‘tight schedule’ a nice word, Mommy?” you sincerely asked her this weekend.
Shortly afterwards, you asked me if “keyboard” is a nice word.
I taught you that “eyeball” is not a nice word in some cases; such as calling your friend Madison one at school.
After watching The Little Engine That Could, on Netflix, you picked up the phrase, “What the heck?”
It seems like such an innocent phrase until you hear a 3 year-old say it.
So Mommy and I have taught you to replace “heck” with “world.”
Right now it’s all about teaching you which words are “nice words.” The funniest thing, is that in the process, you’re asking Mommy and me about neutral words.
Similarly, you try to use this same concept on me.
For example, I could ask Mommy if there is any French toast left from Sunday.
You would warn me:
“Daddy, “French toast” is not a nice word! We don’t say that word.”
I see how for you right now, you honestly don’t know which words you’re allowed not to say yet; until after you’ve said them. Therefore, I guess you assume that I also use words in front of you that I shouldn’t.
I do, it’s just that I mumble them in a way that only Mommy can understand them.
Like the word “gun.” Or “dead.” To me, those are words that I purposely try to shield you from- for the time being.
In my opinion, you’re not ready to learn about guns or death. Or Guns N Roses.
So for now, I will mumble what I don’t want you to hear. Meanwhile, you will continue asking me if nearly every random noun is a nice word or not.
And he’s always so happy to be there; often just slouching in his seat with a big cartoon grin on his face.
Recently he watched you cram Play-Doh into the medicine dispencer while you were dressed in your Batman pajamas.
Then, a few days later, while wearing your Lightning McQueen shirt, you asked me to make you a Play-Doh anteater, only to have you “chomp it” with some tongs, running a circle around me.
These are the kinds of things you love to do these days.
So, as you know, we drive a new Toyota (or Lexus or Scion) vehicle each week, as I have unexpectedly (!) become a car reviewer on the side; as a result of writing these letters to you.
This week we’ve had a lot of fun in our real-life Lightning McQueen:
A 2014 Scion tC!
This marks the first time we’ve driven a 2 door car with you. Though actually, it’s considered a “3 door liftback,” which you’ve had a lot of fun with.
Oh, that reminds me, you bought a $5 purple elephant from Kohl’s who you named Ellie. She’s been following you around everywhere that Donatello doesn’t go.
To my surprise, only having two doors (or three) hasn’t been a problem in this car.
Something you like about the Scion tC, or “Lightning McQueen car,” as we call it, is that it actually has two moonroofs- one over me and then a smaller one over you.
Needless to say, I felt pretty special this week chauffering you around in such a cool looking car.
This is your random life and mine.
Just as I wonder which new car I’ll be driving next week, I also wonder what new weird toy you’ll be obsessed with for that week as well.
I have to admit, I am pretty impressed by your creativity, shown through your new play idea of meticulously stuffing a medicine dropper with Play-Doh. You never smiled once while doing it. That’s how serious you took the event.
Love,
Daddy
Disclaimer: The vehicle mentioned in this story was provided at the expense of Scion, for the purpose of reviewing.
P.S. Here’s a collection of my Toyota family reviews so far; just click on title to read the full story:
There are some awesome children’s toys from the Eighties that just never really went away… fortunately.
Like Tranformers, Care Bears, and Smurfs.
But the ones that you are most excited about right now are the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!
Nonna and Papa got you a nearly life-size Donatello for Christmas and he has become like My Buddy, an Eighties toy that didn’t survive, to you.
I haven’t asked my parents why they chose Donatello for you; after all, I was never too crazy about him when I was a boy.
Michaelango was the obnoxious one. Donatello was the forgettable one. Raphael was the emotional one. And Leonardo was the leader. That’s how I always perceived them, at least.
But when I really thought about it, Donatello is perfect for you! Because if you were a Ninja Turtle, that’s exactly who you’d be:
As the original theme song simpy explains, “Donatello does machines.”
You have the technical mind that I don’t. While I can easily take something apart, you’re going to be the kind of guy who can not only take them apart, but also put them back together.
Where as I definitely fall short in having the handy man mindset, you’ve always showed me signs of it. Plus, you are smart. As for me, I tend to just “fake it ’til I make it.” I graduated with a degree in English simply because I wasn’t good enough or focused enough on anything else.
A lot of people think I’m smart, but I’m not. I’m just clever and determined; and there’s definitely a difference!
The reason Donatello was “the forgettable one” for me while growing up was because he was the one I least related to.
My favorite Ninja Turtle was always Leonardo, the reluctant leader, like Jack Shephard onLost.
Sure enough, I took this “Ninja Turtle Personality Quiz” on Spike.com and confirmed what I already knew. I am Leonardo, the reluctant leader:
“You’re aggressive, but not in an overbearing manner. You’re known for being very organized and helpful. You’re very practical and there as a friend, while being relatively low maintenance and asking for little in return. People see you as a leader. Unfortunately, you weren’t elected to that position, and some resent you for being kind of a control freak.”
Meanwhile, here’s what the quiz said about Donatello, who I think you are:
“You’re very meticulous and scientifically minded. You excelled at academics and that’s transferred into your current career. You’re very loyal, inoffensive, and reliable. However, you can also be aloof and so wrapped up in what you’re doing that you neglect your social and familial obligations.”
Going back to my own “Leonardo personality,” earlier this week I happened to read part of a book called Eat Right 4 Your Type.
It explained that people who are have Type A blood (like me) actually make for the best vegans (interesting!) and it also said Type A blooded people also tend to have the “Reluctant Leader” complex; naming former Presidents Jimmy Carter and Richard Nixon as examples.
(I’m guessing this applies to several classic Bible heroes, too; like Noah, Moses, and David.)
The findings of both the Ninja Turtle quiz and the Blood Type quiz simply confirm what every other personality quiz I’ve taken has always said: I am your reluctant leader.
My whole life, I have had to be a leader in some compacity. I always find myself becoming the leader of the group, by default, never by choice. It happened every single time in school where I was part of a group project, in every place I’ve ever worked at, and with family dynamics, as well.
Even now, I never intended to make this such a teachable moment. I meant to just write about your new favorite Ninja Turtle doll.
Get used to it, I guess. After all, I am Leonardo and you are Donatello.
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