Really, Really, Really

I guess it's inevitable that all kids will start with the hyperbole eventually, but the question is when will it end...

This evening we were dropping our van off at the mechanic's so Ben and Kyle got to ride in my little blue car. It's a 1989 Chevy Cavalier to be exact. Or if the label on the trunk is to be believed, a Chevrol Cavalier. It lost the "et" who know when... The head liner is also held up by 100 thumb tacks. The glue has long since disintegrated and for quite awhile the fabric was only being held to the roof by the dome light in the middle and the molding around the edges.

The point being, this is a car that has seen better days and is mainly to get me the two miles or so to the train station and back, but in Ben's mind it's the best thing since sliced bread. He just loves to ride in it and was so excited tonight. I asked him why he liked my car so much and he responded with the standard 3-yr old "I don't know." So I pushed a little.

"If you like it so much, there must be a reason," I said. "What is it about my car that you like so much?"

"Well Dad," he said very matter of factly, "I really, really, really, reaaalllly like it."

Well of course, that explains everything.