Beep Beep

We finally got Tate his big birthday present. Hey, he didn't realize that it was almost 2 weeks late. That's the good thing about 3-year-olds...they don't understand a lot of stuff. Take a look at him whoopin' it up in his phat wheels.

"Hellllllp!"

Later, losers.

It was pretty humorous to watch Nora's little radish-top ponytail flowing in the breeze as they speed away down the cul-de-sac at 3 mph. It took Tate awhile to get the hang of it though. He would throw the 'stang into reverse, back all the way down the driveway and into the street, and then instead of throwing the car into "drive" (or "crawl", more accurately), he would get out of the car and attempt to pick it up and manually turn it. Since the car weighed about 14 times as much as he did, he didn't experience a whole lot of success in this endeavor. At least he got some good, frustrated tantrums out of the deal, though.

Once he figured out that he cannot lift something the weight of a small horse, he finally let us show him the magic of the gear stick and then there was really no stopping the kid. Especially since Eric rigged it so the car would not only go in "turtle" mode, it would also go in "rabbit" mode. Tate would step on the gas, the tires would squeal, and they'd go hurtling off into the distance until they were just a little read dot with a ponytail sticking out of the top. That sucker can motor. Eric and I would stand in the driveway and listen to Nora's exalted "ZEEEEEE!!!!"s as they went careening around the circle. I was dying laughing. Tate looked like a total natural, hanging his elbow out of the door, looking over his shoulder as he threw 'er into reverse...the whole deal. Pretty soon I'll look out the window and he'll be taking the Town and Country for a joyride.

The best part was when he got out of the car, came up to Eric and said completely of his own accord, "I love my car, Daddy. Thank you so much for the car." Yeah, I guess Mommy's chopped liver, but still...it was a charming and sweet moment.

Oh, and Nora has learned how to open our back screen door, scuttle out onto the deck, back herself down the stairs and trot over to our swingset a good 50 feet away, all without telling Mommy. Awesome. She's gonna be feisty, that one. One of these days she'll start storing a few of Daddy's brewskis in the Little Tykes playhouse and inviting the other toddlers over for a night of beer and cruisin' in the Cozy Coupe, looking for action.