Like a homing device, my internal beeping radar got faster the closer I got to him. Make a turn for the office, the beeper slowed down as to signify Colder, Colder. Make a turn for the hallway, the beeper would speed up to signify Warmer, Warmer. I started zeroing in on his room. The internal beeper had almost turned into a continuous sound, rather than an intermittent beep. I'm HOT, HOT, HOT!
Still quiet. Could be good. Maybe.
I cautiously, slowly and quietly open the door. Heart beating out of my chest. Eyes are wide and bulging. They're trying desperately to jump out of my head to view around the corner of the door to see what's going on.
My parents used to say, "Nothing good happens after midnight." About 95% of the time, my mother-of-a-3-year-old boy mantra "Nothing good is happening when The Boy's been quiet for too long," could be true.
But today was a little different.
In many ways.
It wasn't Bad. Just a little ... uh ... different.
I'm afraid the best way I can describe what was going on is this:
Nathan is the leader of a miniature Monster Truck cult. He is The One ALL of his Monster Trucks answer to, report to, salute and trust with their lives.
I apparently interrupted one of their "sessions" and found this
Nathan, thankfully, was sitting in his bed, reading some dinosaur books. But he had carefully set up his portrait in front of his Monster Trucks so they may pay their respects.
No really, when I walked in and saw this, it was all I could do to not burst out in laughter. I nonchalantly left the room, got the camera and started taking pictures. He wasn't too happy with that, so these were the only 2 I got.
When I asked why he had set up the trucks to look at his picture, his reply was, "Cause dey wanted to see me better."
This was soon after he used his Birthday $ to buy 4 new Monster Trucks. Maybe he was putting the newbies through the imprinting process.
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