Friday, April 8, 2011

Carter and the Black Kid.

My kid hates all the baby gates.  Hates 'em.
Let's say Carter didn't have all these gates around the house.
Where does he think he's going to go?
He's always staring out the back door, or the front window, and you can see that he is contemplating his great escape.
Sometimes I wonder.  If I just opened all the gates, and the back door, where would he go?  Would he bravely set off into the world (and get hit by a car or eaten by a coyote, surely) or would he make it to the sidewalk and decide that he doesn't really want to go out there without mommy's guidance?
I would surely hope for the latter.
But how much do our babies really think they need us?  How much are they really aware of?  Are they even aware of how much they depend on us to survive?  Who do they even think we are, when they're still babies?  I guess they know we're important.  But why do they think we ended up together, in this house with all the gates?  What in the world are the babies thinking?

We were at the wal mart supercenter last night.  Carter normally doesn't pay much attention to other people, but bigger kids?  Oh, he loves big kids.  There was a black kid behind us in line, he was probably 6 or something.  Carter just looked at him and laughed and laughed and laughed.  What the hell was he thinking?  I don't think he'd ever seen a black kid before, so he was probably a little taken aback by that, surely.  But what else?  Was he all like 'dude!  How did you get out of that shopping cart?  Why are you letting them keep that hat on your head?  How did you unbuckle yourself?'
This black kid loved Carter too.  They just laughed at each other the entire 7 minutes that we stood in that check out line at wal mart.  Then, when they walked past us in the parking lot, Carter gave him a big smile and a wave.  He loved that black kid.
Apparently, when I saw a black guy for the first time, he was at our house and I ran under the kitchen table and hid from him for god knows how long.  But eventually I grew to love him very much.  I don't remember any of this.

On second thought, I am probably (or most definitely) over-estimating his abilities to think real, rational thoughts.  I've seen him play, after all.
When I pull this, the drawer opens.
When I push the drawer, it closes.

And then he discovered the dropping shit on the floor game.
Wow, this toy is cool and everything, but what will happen when I drop it?
Oh, mommy picks it up.
Drop again.
Oh, sad face, mommy's not giving the toy back anymore...

And it's even more fun with food.
Mmmmm, timbits!
(throws timbit)
(mommy replaces timbit)
(throws again)
what, no more timbits?
I'll just start crying, then.

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