Tacos & a Firetruck

In light of Wee Laddie’s request yesterday, we went to Würzburg today. Grandma-Nana had sent some Easter money for Wee Laddie, so we let him pick out a toy. I was angling for a drum (he’s got some fun drum toys but I’ve been wanting to get him one that’s more like a real drum) so I was looking at a little bongo set. He, however, had spotted some little cars & trucks and got sort of fixated on a little firetruck. I tried to get him to try the bongos, but he pushed them away and said, “Wee Laddie likes firetruck. No want drums.” And that was that. If he can communicate his wants that clearly, I’m not going to try to convince him otherwise. (No, he won’t always get what he wants, but I’m hardly going to stand there arguing with him.) In this case, he did get what he wanted.

After I picked up our food, I saw that Guitarman and Wee Laddie were sitting at the next table to another family from our base… a little boy named Marcus that Wee Laddie played with the day that Guitarman watched him while I took my drivers’ test, and his parents. Wee Laddie was actually sharing his brand new firetruck with Marcus. I was practically beaming at my son’s great sharing! But when Wee Laddie took it back to sit down & eat his lunch, poor Marcus came unglued. Oy, I was so glad we weren’t in their shoes at that moment. So then we’re trying to explain to Wee Laddie that it was still good that he shared, even though Marcus was upset now. This whole discipline thing is quite interesting, really.

Oh, so this beloved firetruck toy talks, and one phrase that it says is, “Raise my ladder, buddy.” Now is it just me or is that a little bit creepy?