When we went to Bellingham for Thanksgiving this year, we weren’t entirely certain the hosts–my aunt and uncle, who’s grandchildren are now between seven and seventeen years of age–would have much in the way of age appropriate toys for T. So we thought to bring some of T’s toys along for the ride. Only thing was, we were driving D’s Impreza, which isn’t exactly the largest vehicle in the world, and we had an assortment of other, somewhat more necessary things to bring along. Like a portable crib. And a booster seat. And my brother. So we had to be choosy.
[As it turns out, this was patently unnecessary, because somehow there was a collection of toddler-appropriate toys and books that had collected in my aunt and uncle's house over the years.]
D’s solution was to purchase a Fisher Price Little People bus. Which, it turns out, actually comes with batteries. Which made it quite a bit more annoying than I was hoping. But it seemed to occupy him pretty well for a few minutes. Success.
Thing is, when I hear the word “bus” now, my brain immediately starts playing 50 Cent’s “21 Questions.” As in, “could you love me on a bus?” Fucking earworm-recording motherfucker ruined another Thanksgiving. But it dovetailed nicely with the copy of “Green Eggs and Ham” we brought along.