Loves to scoot them around the house, loves to exclaim "truck!" whenever we see a big truck (or tractor or fire engine or front end loader...), loves to carry his smaller trucks with him in the car/store/nursery, and especially loves to ride in Kristopher's truck.
Whenever we go outside to play, we always have to make a pass by daddy's truck to look at it, declare it a "truck!" and maybe try to climb on the running boards. If Kristopher is at work, we at least have to point to his empty parking spot to note the absence of the "truck!"
I credit his fire truck for single-handedly saving us from a meltdown when I dropped him off at the gym nursery. When he realized he was about to be left for forty five whole minutes and started to say "mama....Mama....MAMA!!!" in his worried, wobbly voice, I produced the little fire truck from his bag and all was well. Come to think of it, his recent infatuation with trucks is kinda handy.
|Saying "whoa!!!" right before he crashed the truck off the bench and onto the hardwood floor.|
Causing the truck to break in three places.