The boy is totally about robots these days. They go to the playground and to bed with him. He cannot get enough of them.
Me: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Him: A robot driver.
Me: Do they teach you robot driving at school?
Him: Yes.
Me: What skills do you need to be a robot driver?
Him: It’s like Little Dragons, kicking and punching.
Me: What would your robot driver name be? Chicken feet?
Him: No, that would be silly. The robots wouldn’t like that.
We get our robots from the “robot shop.” I wonder, if there were robot shops, what would they look like? Who would shop there?
It’s actually a beautiful thing, the way he gives them names and makes up stories and conversations between them. Some are “really nice”, like Wall-e. They all fight sea monsters. He makes them fly around making “sssshhhh” airplane noises. The Transformers are a personal nightmare as he’s not quite old enough to transform them himself so this task falls to me. I’m regularly admonished with “Mummy you didn’t do it right.”
And there are the questions. “Why are robots made of metal?” “Do robots have skeletons?” As a parent, how do you keep coming up with the answers? Sometimes I just don’t have the energy to invent something.
This week’s robot lexicon, it changes on a regular basis. It’s probably changed since I wrote this down. And no, I do not know how one came to be called “gray onion.”
