Cars and Girls

The Passengers Seat

Sophie and I have this thing we do, I say her name and then she says mine. It usually starts off quiet and escalates to us yelling each other’s names, ending with us laughing. I can do it from anywhere in the house and if she can hear me she’ll join in. I have always been the instigator. Last night we were “patiently” waiting for Christine in the car. I was in the front passenger seat, Sophie was in her car seat kitty-corner to me and Belle was driving. Okay, she wasn’t driving we were parked, but she was in the driver seat and she was making “driving noises”. We heard sounds of the engine revving, tires screeching, added with the occasional chuckle. At that moment I hoped that this was more Mario Carts influence then her innocently mimicking her father’s driving patterns… or mother’s.

As this was going on Sophie piped in.

Sophie, “Daddy!”
Me, “Sophie!”
Sophie, “Daddy!”
Me, “Sophie!”

Sophie decided to talk in sentences last week.

Sophie, quiet again, “Daddy, How’s it going, Daddy!”

I looked back at her; a little surprised, she’s never said anything like that to me before.

Me, “Did you just ask me ‘how’s it going’?”

Sophie was nothing but giggles… and she has some cool giggles.

All of this took place with the sounds of Mario Cart looming in the back ground.


Your Jeep

The other day we were running an errand. Belle was very quietly sitting in her seat.

Me, “Belle, what’s on your mind?”

Belle thoughtfully replied, “Jeeps.”

Me, “What are you thinking about Jeeps?”

Belle, “Buying one.”

Belle loves going off road with me. We drive up hills, through rivers, over rock, and, Belle’s favorite, through mud.

She has been scavenging fallen pocket change and found pennies for almost two years and she promptly puts them in her banks. It started out with a pink piggy bank and now she has one of my old banks I had from my childhood. Both banks are near capacity.

If you ask her what she is saving for she will tell you without hesitation, “My dad’s Jeep.”

A while back we were contemplating on selling my Jeep for some much needed money. Belle must have overheard this conversation because she later asked me to count the money in her bank with her.

As we dumped all of her “life wealth” on the floor, we counted over $80, along with rubber bands, stickers, Cheerios, fake credit cards that come with the offers in the mail, and anything else that she could fit though the slot that she deemed of value and had landed in her bank.

Belle, “Is this enough for you Jeep?”

It was then that I realized by selling my Jeep I would also be selling the hopes and dreams of my daughter. Yes, we needed the money, but I couldn’t rationalize putting a value on a dream she valued so much.

Me, “I’ll save my Jeep for you so when you’re old enough to drive you can ‘buy’ my Jeep.”