Kid Bits

Today I had to ask Evie how old she was. She accused me of being a bad mom. It was just a momentary glitch, I’m sure. Perhaps a brief bit of senility, but I’d like to believe it was harmless. It’s just that seven is the age that first came to mind, but I knew it wasn’t right. Eight seemed almost there, and then I was wondering if she could possibly be ten. She’s not. Just nine. But for a moment there I really couldn’t remember. Just silliness, I know. But it changes EVERY year. Am I really supposed to keep track?

I do have a seven-year-old, however. And Maddie, ONLY seven, has gotten it in her head that she “just can’t wait to drive.” We’ve discussed it three evenings in a row on our walks with the dog.

Today she said, “It’s just not fair. How long do I have to wait to drive again?”

I told her ten years. (Shhhh… don’t tell her it’s actually more like seven or eight.)

“But I KNOW how to drive already!” she insisted. “The little rectangle in the middle is the brake. The one that goes up and down on the right side is the gas. It makes you go. The one way up high on the left is the emergency brake. You only use that for parking. The steering wheel makes the front wheels go the direction you want them to go, unless you have 4-wheel drive, then all the wheels go.”

Okay, except for connection between steering and 4-wheel drive, she’s got more of a handle on things than I had imagined.

“One problem,” I told her. “I don’t think you are yet tall enough to see over the steering wheel.”

“Oh man!” And she stomped her little foot as if she hadn’t actually considered this.