My kid’s into airplanes, cars, and dinosaurs.  I don’t think any of us would have seen that coming from the spawn of the boy who played with Kewpie dolls, loved Care Bears, and enjoyed Jurassic Park for the scenery.

But he loves these things so now I love these things. Or at least I’m more aware of them.  I never used to notice airplanes flying by.  Now, by habit, I point to the sky whenever one passes and say “puh, puh” and then make a whoosh sound as I shoot my finger like a rocket, across my body, and upward.

For the past week, whenever we go to the coffee shop, we pick a table near the street and Declan contentedly shoves banana bread in his mouth while gesturing to every car, truck, bus, and jeep that passes by.  He knows them mostly by color.  The green ones are the best, followed closely by blue, and then by the color he thinks is pink but is actually red.  Declan has not yet internalized the “say it, don’t spray it” idea, so the passing of non-descript white sedans is akin to a light morning shower while the appearance of big, green trucks is best compared to a tropical storm.  You may have an umbrella, but you’re still going to get wet.

Declan’s index finger gets a workout with all that pointing.  Sometimes the people in the cars see him and point back.  One guy looked like the Fonz, flashing us a thumbs up.  Ehhhhhhhhhh!

Watching cars with Declan is now the highlight of my day.  It’s peaceful.  He gets his own chair.  I sit.  He stands.  We both eat.  And we narrate the car show.  I can see doing the same thing with a football game someday.  Or anything really.  The great part is, I know nothing about cars and it doesn’t matter.  With him, all I need to know how to do is open my eyes.





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