I Was Hoping For Something That Paid A Little More

I'm continually surprised by the things Turtle does while playing. It's an education in what he's learning during the day. Like the time we were in the middle of playing go-gos and he yelled "SHIT!" at the top of his lungs. (Note to self: perhaps it would be wise to start watching the language in Turtle's presence.... Oh, and stop letting him watch R rated movies....) Or the way he so easily picked up his cousin's mannerisms the last time they played together and all of sudden started saying "Ohhhhhhhhhhh maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!" whenever he was displeased with the state of affairs in his world. It has become clear that the "my child is a sponge" phenomenon has hit our little family.

Yesterday, though, I was particularly intrigued by what his play was telling me about him. When I picked him up at the kids' area at the gym, he was walking in and out of a playhouse they have set up in the room. When I tried to encourage him to leave with me, he insisted that he wasn't ready to go yet, and being disinclined to argue, I walked over to the playhouse and sat down. The next thing I knew, Turtle was walking back into the house and opening the window near my resting spot.

"Hi Mommy!" he said cheerfully. "You hunee? Eat?"

"Sure," I replied, since my child is frequently given to handing me fake food to eat, and I don't mind playing along since the fake food has considerably fewer calories than their real-life counterparts.

"You wan' cheeseburer, Mommy?"

It was then that I realized that rather than just handing me fake food for no particular purpose, my child was in fact playing "Drive Thru Window Guy." I suppressed a chuckle and told him that sure, Mommy would love a cheeseburger. He smiled and handed me my food, and then said a very perky "Thank you!" The hairs on the back of my neck raised, as I contemplated the possibility that this would, in fact, be Turtle's occupation of choice when he grows up and that, not having enough money to get his own apartment, he would end up living with his parents for longer than their legally obligated 18 years. The shudder that went through my body was not entirely due to overexertion, I can tell you that much.

On the other hand, I suppose so long as he is doing something he loves, I can't complain. Not all of us are able to do things that make us passionate. Besides, if it means that I'll get my damn grilled chicken sandwich with no tomato from now on, it's a win-win situation, from my perspective.