Week 58: Infinity G37 Coupe

My four year old son, affectionately known on this blog as Racer A, recently started with the county's Head Start pre-school program, but classes are a few towns over so it means driving 20 minutes to get him to the bus. 

That short ride gives us time to talk about important things, like today:

ME: You know what? I'm glad deer don't drive cars. I don't think they would be good drivers.

RACER A: (Unphased by comment) Uh-huh, I don't think so either. I'm glad deer don't drive too.


(We drive a minute or two in silence.)

ME: You know what else? I'm glad squirrels don't drive. I would have a difficult time seeing their tiny cars.

RACER A: I'm glad squirrels don't drive, too, but they could drive big cars, you know.

ME: True, but they would probably need tiny seats in their big cars.

RACER A:  Yes. Hey, you know what I'm glad of? I'm glad cats don't drive cars.

ME: Me too. I would never know what the cars would do next if cats were driving. They might suddenly turn left, and then spin around or something.

RACER A:  How do you think dogs would drive?

ME: I'm not certain. They might goof around a lot, go slow, then fast, and they might play chase in cars.

RACER A: That would not be good.

ME: No, definitely not.

(We ride again in silence.)

ME: You know what I'm really glad about?

RACER A:  What?

ME: That fish don't drive cars.

RACER A:  Me too. How would they do that?

ME: They'd have to fill their cars with water.

RACER A:  Maybe they would drive in their fishbowl.

ME: You mean a fishbowl with wheels?

RACER A:  No, I mean their fishbowl would sit on the seat, with a seatbelt around it.

ME: But how would they reach the steering wheel? They'd need to hang out of the top.

RACER A:  Yup. But wait!! How would they reach those...um, those things you push down on the bottom?

ME: The gas and break petals?

RACER A:  Yes.

ME: I don't know. They would need someone to help. Maybe a lizard.

RACER A:  Yes, or maybe a sheep, but the sheep would hop over the fish, but only once, and then settle down. No, wait, maybe a frog can help.

ME: A frog would be a good helper.

RACER A:  Or a cat.

ME: No, the cat would eat the fish. Or at least tease it.

(We pass a transport truck hauling new cars.)

ME: Look at that that!

RACER A:  COOL!

What kind of animal would drive that?

RACER A:  Maybe a cow?

ME: Maybe, or maybe a horse. Horses are used to hauling things.

RACER A:  Yes, that's it. A horse would be perfect. (He adds a slight pause between "per" and "fect.")

ME: I think a horse might be a good driver.

RACER A:  Oh yes. A horse would definitely be a good driver.

(We approach the drop off spot).

ME: What if we get there and your bus is being driven by an animal, like a moose or something, although I guess a moose would have a hard time fitting its antlers through the bus door.

RACER A:  The bus driver would probably be a goat.

ME: Yes, a goat would fit better.

RACER A:  Wait a second. Animals don't drive cars. Only grownups. And teenagers. How do teenagers drive cars?

ME: Kind of like cats.






Photo of Matchbox Infinity G37 and red sky of impending doom courtesy of Phil Pekarcik, perhaps inspired by Week 57's dark tone.

Speaking of which, I considered whether or not to publish Week 57 as I try to keep this blog light, but Daddy's Tiny Cars is after all a time capsule diary that would be incomplete if I didn't express elements from my real life, including the downs. I don't mean giving every rough detail, but rather capturing essences of the week. I hope you all understand

Now I must go. There appears to be a fruit fly swimming in my wine.