Racethecar

By: Kelly Swanson

If you've ever been an active participant in a toddler's potty training season, you know the tremendous victory when he finally conquers his fears and, without prompting, deposits his first unsolicited stinky in the potty. I am proud to say that my son finally crossed the finish line this morning. There were hoorays, high-fives, and tears of relief that my son won't be the only kid on the football team wearing a pull-up. I kissed him, gave him the five pound bag of M&M's I had promised, and put a nice cap on what was already a treasured moment by promising him a trip to the auto shop - his favorite place in the whole world. Forget Disney on Ice, forget Elmo at the coliseum - take my kid to watch Buster breathe life into a Dodge Duster and my kid hits toddler nirvana. Unfortunately, this is never as cheap a form of entertainment as I would hope. It's the auto shop after all.

My son starts shaking in excitement at the mere sight of that giant plastic tire in the sky and we pull into one of those quaint small-town operations where not only can you get your tires rotated while Hank sings his sorrows from the dusty old radio, you can find out whose kid is sure to be crowned homecoming queen, hear where old man Jenkins turned up this week on his wayward scooter, and even buy some bait if you feel so inclined. All to the sounds of various auto shop tools that form the symphony my son so loves. I'm convinced that when his Sunday school teacher sings about heaven, this is what he sees.

I am still getting out of the car when my son bolts out of the back

seat and sprints across the parking lot so fast I feared the wind would catch hold of his protruding ears. He is partly fueled by the M&M's that have left a perfect o-shaped chocolate ring around his mouth, and partly fueled by the fact that he has got news to share. Big news. And before I have time to stop him he comes to a screeching halt in front of the row of open garage doors, takes a deep breath and screams in his loudest voice to date, "I went stinky on the potty!" My heart stopped from extreme embarrassment and time stood still as his announcement echoed and bounced through the walls of the auto shop and down Main Street where they stopped pumping gas three blocks down. I debated the idea of pretending I'd never seen this kid and making a run for it but I figured that might turn around and bite me. So I just smiled the same "what can you do?" smile I pasted on when he sang Jesus Loves Me down every single aisle of the grocery store.

What felt like an eternity in that parking lot was really in retrospect only a second when he screamed, "I went stinky on the potty" and without hesitation there came from the bays in that garage a unifying resounding male cheer from under cars and behind hoods. It was no less enthusiastic than had he just scored the game-winning touchdown in the Super Bowl. "Way to go," they cried. "Good job," they screamed as the air filled with waving wrenches and power drills. And my son beamed as his greatest heroes in the whole world stopped what they were doing to recognize his accomplishment. And in that moment, they became my heroes too.

Until next week....keep on the funny side!

Kelly Swanson

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Kelly Swanson

It's all fun and games 'til the hair gets messed up

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