Thumper used to know trucks. Cars and trucks. We see them on our jogs all the time, and "Carsh!" he says. "Tuck!" he says. Then I took him to the UT campus, where there are buses, buses everywhere. "Tuck!" he said. "Bus!" I said. "Tuck!" he said. "Bus!" I said.
And now there are no more trucks. A pickup goes by. "Bus!" he says. "Truck!" I say. A delivery van goes by. "Bus!" he says. "Truck!" I say. An 18-wheeler roars past. "Bus!" he says. "Truck!" I say.
But today, we went to the Austin Children's Museum. They have a whole new exhibit on transportation that features the back half and engine of a Cap Metro bus. "Bus!" he said, spinning in circles and pointing frantically. "Bus!" "Yes," I said. "Bus!" He ran up to perfect strangers, kids and adults and anyone he could find. "Bus!" he said, pointing and pointing. "Yes," I said. "Bus!"
And when he'd worn himself out, I carried him back to the car. Just as I was unlocking the door and dropping the diaper bag in, a Cap Metro bus rumbled towards us. "Look, Thumper," I said, pointing. "What's that?"
He looked at the bus. We looked at each other. A beat went by, and we both smiled. It was a good joke. "Bus," we said together. "Bus." And then we laughed.
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4 comments:
This might be my all time favorite Thumper story.
Well told, friend.
That's very sweet of you, thank you.
read this in my rss feed a few days back and just realized I never commented.
agreed. so well told. such a good joke.
Thanks. I should get a microphone so I can use Skype as a telephone. Oh, no, I mean so I can record him saying car and bus. They both get sh endings. "Carsh? Bush?" It's so adorably squeaky and speech impedimenty and just so earnest when combined with his little pointy finger and his determination to keep right on saying it until you acknowledge that he is indeed correct, my heart almost falls out of my chest every time.
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