Friday, October 18, 2002
David was standing in the busy amusement park thoroughfare eating a corn dog as fast as he could chew.
As he swallowed the last gulp, he stood as tall as he could up against his big brother and asked, "Now how tall am I?"
It was an endearing sight and yet so heart wrenching.
All day, this child of 39 inches had been looking at roller coasters and thrill rides that "go up to the sky." How he longed to go on those rides.
"You're not tall enough," we told him over and over again, being careful not to say "not big enough." David contends he IS big.
He thought if he stuffed down a corn dog really fast, it would put him over the top of the height requirement.
I didn't have the heart to tell him he probably wouldn't be tall enough to ride next year either.
Ironically, by the time he is tall enough, common sense will have settled in his now-fearless brain and he will be afraid to ride these rides he longs for.
Yearning for school
"How many days will I go to school?" David asked me for the 500th time during the last week of summer vacation.
"Two days," I told again.
"How many days does Robert go to school?" he wanted to know.
"Five days," I explained.
David's little mind could not understand this injustice.
"But I have a backpack!" he exclaimed.
In his 4-year-old mind, having a backpack like a big boy meant he should go to school as many days as the big boys.
If he only knew that all his brothers would be happy to trade their five days for his two.
"I want to sweep," David pleaded with me as I vacuumed the floor.
"I think the sweeper will be too heavy for you to push," I told him.
He tried with all his might, but could barely budge the bulky vacuum. I suggested we vacuum together but his pride had been hurt and he no longer wanted to.
I know that when he is old enough to easily maneuver the sweeper, he will grumble over the chore.
4 years old
"No, you may not go on a bike ride with the boys," I said to David, still in shock that he can even ride a bike.
"But I'm 4 years old!" he insisted, holding up four fingers proudly.
I gently took his hands and held up all his fingers.
"When you are this many, you can go for a bike ride on the road," I explained to him.
His face fell in complete disbelief. In his mind, it would be forever before he was all those fingers old.
Standing there, holding his little hands, I was experiencing my own disbelief.
It seemed like just yesterday I was holding this little man in my arms.
It will seem like tomorrow when it will take all his fingers to count his age.
That leaves me with today.
Taking time
So when David wants to play, I put down the dish towel, sit on the floor and build a tower for him to knock over.
"You are so strong," I say.
"Strong like Robert?" he asks.
"Oh yes," I respond.
When David wants to read, I put down my book and pick up "The Cat in the Hat."
We read it together. David knows all the words.
"You are so smart," I tell him.
"Smart like Phillip?" he wonders.
"Absolutely," I assure him.
When it is nap time, I set aside the laundry basket and lie down with him, holding his hand and tickling him with the other.
He curls up giggling, then attacks back, waving his arms wildly to distract my attention.
"You're funny," I laugh.
"Funny like Andrew?" he giggles back.
"Yes, and goofy too," I tickle him again.
This child, so determined to "be big" and keep up with his brothers, has no idea how perfect his world is right now.
But tomorrow, when his wish is granted and he is "big" like his brothers -- and bigger still -- it will be today that he looks back on and wishes for.
gwhite@vindy.com