Every Sunday night is Movie Night, and I am the designated movie picker. Well, this last Sunday, not yesterday Sunday but the Sunday before, I picked out the newly released "Cars." We didn't bother seeing it at the movies because after a few times of spending an obscene amount of money only to spend the next 2 hours grinding our teeth and clutching the armrests next to a maniacally hyper and supernaturally active 4-year-old we decided Movie Night was best spent in-house.
I had no idea whether Vaughn would like "Cars," considering he starts squawking once he hears there aren't any trains in it, but I have begun to leave his preferences out of my decision-making process because frankly, they only make so many movies for 4-year-olds about trains or with trains and about 85% of those are unwatchable.
Anyway, long story short, he is now obsessed with race cars. Oh, he hasn't given up trains, but now I get to have the lovely ambient sounds of him racing frantically through the house while I’m downstairs trying to decipher a doctor’s mangled mumbling. Vaughn’s energy level is something the car manufacturers should really analyze. I think we would be independent of oil within the next year. Just strap a bunch of preschoolers to the bumper and “up yours, Saudi Arabia.”
Vaughn was still going at it around 8 last night, whipping around the corners of the house, making a circuitous route through all 4 rooms in his own personal Indie 500. He told me he was racing the Naughty Vaughn (also known as Mean Vaughn). Now, I don’t know if it’s healthy for a 4-year-old to have an alter ego or if this is the early manifestations of schizophrenia rearing its ugly head, but when I wake up in the middle of the night and see the Mean Vaughn standing over us with an axe, I’ll know to worry.
No comments:
Post a Comment