Sunday, November 21, 2010

N's favorite things

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Based on what Nathanael points out to us, or repeatedly mentions, here are a few of his favorite things:

Tractor! -  We were at a store with my sister-in-law, who was holding N.  He saw a logo on a bag from 20 feet away that had a very small tractor on it.  He sees them everywhere, and exclaims excitedly about it. Our neighbors have a tractor that they've been using a lot these past few weeks.  Nathanael hears it, and lets us all know, then runs to the window to look for it. He has a few tractor-like toys that he carries around with him.  Unfortunately, we lost one of them somewhere.  Maybe it's with my keys...

Moon! - Always on the look out for Mr. Moon. Hiding behind that tree, you know. In reference to the song, I really don't get why someone wanted to shoot Mr. Moon.  Why was his life in danger? I've been trying to figure out less threatening lyrics for that song, but I admit, I'm stuck.

Plane! - Whenever he hears something that vaguely resembles the sound of a plane, he lets us know.  I think that all started over the summer when we were at a hotel near Chicago's O'Hare airport.  The planes frequently flew overhead, and we spend a lot of time in the pool.  While out on errands this week, we noticed a small plane going in for landing at the local airport.  So, we stopped and watched as someone was taking pilot lessons.  We saw that plane come in and take off about 4 times, and he was thrilled!

Four-Wheeler! - Or rather, the Keys! which turn on the four wheeler.  He'll stand in the hall near the key hooks and suggest strongly that we should go for a ride. ("Keys! Keys! Keys? Kee-hee-hee-hees....! For-wheeder? Keys!")  We have to be careful about talking about the machine, because if he hears "the word" he'll start saying it over and over until we finally give in and go riding.  Or, we disappoint him, and say no, and he cries.  Either one.

Eat! - He's enthusiastic about his food, especially in the morning, when he gets all up in my face (or Jude's, when available) before I'm even awake, leaning over my shoulder, saying, "Eat! Eat! do-durt? er-ral? Eat!" I can't blame him.  I really like my food too. During the day, he'll approach the refridgerator, and make hard-work noises, like grunting, while he pulls on the door.  Then he tells me, "Stuck!" hoping that I'll get the clue and feed him. It takes a lot to keep that little engine running.


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