racing rainbows

You might recall that The Family recently got a new (to us) car. The Kidling was irrationally understandably sad about the whole thing. The Honda was the only car she had ever known and we got it long before Alice was a twinkle in our eyes. In fact, we got that car when The Kidling was more like an anxiety attack. Tightness in our chests, dizziness, and an acute inability to breathe.

It was one old car.

We have told The Kidling she needs to treat this new (to us) car nicely because it is the car she will drive when she is a big kid. She protested. Said she didn’t want to. Insisted she would rather drive the Honda. Ignored my explanation that the Honda was built when The Mama was still in high school.

Then she went to Plan C.

The Kidling: Oh, I want my own rainbow race car. I want my own race car rainbow car. One that wins all the races. (growing excited) And then, sometimes you’ll have to watch me win the race. (practically yells) Get me the fastest race car ever!

The Mama: Race cars are pretty dangerous, dear. I don’t think that’s the best idea.

The Kidling: (exasperated) No, Mom! When I grow up!

The Mama: I know you don’t mean right now, but they are still dangerous.

The Kidling: Why?

The Mama: Well, race cars are really fast, and driving that quickly can cause accidents. It just isn’t safe, sweetie.

The Kidling: Remember where Dad was?* That’s where I’m gonna race. So I’m only gonna work on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. Only on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. (thinks a moment) When do you go to work?

The Mama: Monday through Friday.

The Kidling: When do I go to school?

The Mama: Monday through Friday.

The Kidling: Oh. (pauses) Then I’ll only race on Saturday. I’ll only race on special occasions. So, okay, Mom? I’ll get a race car. (satisfied with the strength of her argument, she prepares to move on to another topic)

The Mama: Maybe. (decides to try a different line of reasoning) You’ll have to save up.

The Kidling: Why?

The Mama: Race cars are expensive.

The Kidling: Why?

The Mama: Someone has to make them, and they are really carefully engineered.

The Kidling: Oh. (The Kidling is incredulous) So somebody makes them?

The Mama: Yes.

And I didn’t hear another word about it. I think she was making new plans to be an automotive engineer. Would you care to guess what I think of that?

Right on, baby girl. You stay on the other side of that wheel.


* The Dada took a ride in a race car in July. We totally had this coming.

About The Mamahttp://kidlingville.comProfessional talker, editor, emailer, problem solver, adjunct lecturer, blogger, and mother to the brilliantly absurd Kidling.

13 thoughts on “racing rainbows

  1. If only the Dada had the same reaction to driving a racecar as my dad did to piloting a fighter jet. I probably would have thought it was cool too and would have wanted to be a fighter jet pilot if I didn’t see how sick my dad became after being up in the plane. Maybe the Dada should feign sickness whenever he does cool stuff?

  2. My husband changes cars almost as often as he changes his mind (between work cars and loaners for when his vehicular projects aren’t running) and the kids are always excited about whatever he brings home. However, I’ve had the same car their whole lives and every time I talk about getting a different car the kids become very emotionally attached to it. It’s like a dirty and barely functioning member of the family.

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