Letter Five

Dear Luke,

Spring has arrived with a bang this year, the buds, blossoms and new growth trumpeting their presence with an amazing command. You, little sprout, are busily doing the same. You are so hungry for knowledge, despite already knowing more than you should, technically. You have ideas and opinions and want new ones, and new experiences, new flavors, colors, sounds.

We had a great conversation last week in the car, after I'd picked you up from your Grandma's house. There was a big rig in the left turn lane, and you identified it, commenting on its size and its loud horn. It made its turn, then our light turned green and we moved on. The big rig was out of sight.

What happened to big rig? you wanted to know. I explained that it had turned onto another street, a different street than the one we were on.

BIG RIG! you shouted. Where ARE you, big rig? Where ARE you? I need your help, big rig!

I was trying my utmost not to laugh. You were very, very serious.

You need the big rig's help? I asked.

Yes.

Oh! What do you need for it to do?

Silence. Then:

Mommy, where did big rig go?

I don't know, sweetie, I said. It went down a different street. Maybe it went home.

BIG RIG! Come back, BIG RIG! Big rig, where are you? I'm in the street, on Mommy's car, big rig!

Shortly thereafter we saw another car that interested you, and the big rig was forgotten.

I love you, boy.

Your Mama