I am afraid to show this picture to my son because if I do, I’ll never live it down. And then I’ll have to move out of the house because of the relentless badgering our 42 pound four-year old can unleash.
Who cares monster trucks aren’t practical for every day use? This picture is evidence that he too can have a Big Foot or Gravedigger parked on our pristine yard. My husband is just one heartfelt soliloquy away from caving in and perusing truck trader magazines for “good deals.” I say this with solid authority because B bought our son a go-cart and a 2 cycle mini atv –all before Ryder could walk! These “toys” are sitting in our garage, patiently waiting for him.
Perhaps it is our fault, or blame it on manifest destiny, his name is Ryder after all and his addiction to anything that goes vroom! vroom! is already legendary in our circle of influence. He is especially enthralled by monster trucks, and the power they wield.
For the time being I am content with the pocketful of Matchbox Hot Wheels he disperses throughout the house like sweet tarts. I can contend with this even when I am barefoot and step on them or when I scoop them out of my bathtub.
I knew what I was getting into when I married my roadster-motorcross-mma-stunt loving husband. I didn’t expect lightning to strike twice.
July 13, 2010