Many of my posts here include rundowns of conversations I’ve had with the boys, mainly originating from the back seat of the vehicle I happen to be driving. I’ve learned that drive time means talk time for boys. Question time. Discovery time. Ridiculous news update from school time. It also means time for boys to make sure you are still inside the car, even if you were sitting right there 64 seconds earlier.
Connor: “Hey dad.”
Me: “Yeah buddy?”
Connor: “Did you know that we had races all the way out to that big tree that those kids spray painted the words on and we ran around it four times then all the way back to the monkey bars and I was the winner?”
Me: “Really? Wow. You win like all the races at recess. You must be the fastest kid in second grade.”
Connor: “Yeah, I am. Me and Valentino. Only I am faster than Valentino in a straight line but Valentino can be as fast as me when the girls are chasing us cause he can turn fast.”
Connor: “Hey Dad.”
Me: “Yeah buddy?”
Connor: “If a cheetah raced a motorcycle do you think a cheetah could win?”
Do you see what’s happening here? Every time a new thought process begins, the actual, physical presence of myself in the front seat of the vehicle is required to be reconfirmed. Short pause, long pause, doesn’t matter. New topics or slight variations in topics always begin with the same phrase.
Nathan: “Hey dad!”
Nathan: “Um…Ben S. got in big trouble today cause he gave his cheese to Ben A. and the rule is no sharing snacks.”
Me: “Ouch. Sharing cheese is bad business, dude.”
Nathan: “Hey Dad.”
Me: “Hey what?”
Nathan: “For Christmas I want a giant bounce house to go right in the front yard.”
It is February. Bounce house Christmas presents and Ben S. cheese sticks are pressing matters, but why do boys feel the need to begin every thought process with a brand new salutation?
I don’t know. But I do know that every time I hear “Hey Dad!” I am up. Boys got stuff to talk about.