One of Kostyn’s birthday presents was a Playmobil RV, complete with bikes and a picnic table and all sorts of outdoor gear that we immediately took away because the pieces are too tiny for him to have yet. We thought the RV itself and the family inside would be a fun way to introduce him to camping in a little miniature world, just as we’re set to head off on our first family camping excursion this weekend.
And he loves it. Played with it for about an hour nonstop this morning, and carried around the people and bikes with him all day.
The thing has the quintessential storybook family: A buff guy, a skinny, young-looking woman, a little boy and an even littler girl. Kostyn immediately labeled them “Dada,” “Mama,” “Non” (what he says for “Kostyn”) and “Baby.” “Baby,” of course, is the little girl. Even though she is clearly not a baby, she is the fourth, the extra, so it stands to reason in Kostyn’s little mind that she’s the “Evan” of the family.
So today I asked him what the baby’s name was, assuming he’d say “Ewan.”
Imagine my surprise when, instead, he said, “Jesus.”
Now I’m feeling all weird that “Jesus” is currently crammed in the bike compartment with her little purple bike. Maybe I should quietly take her out and, I don't know, put her in the driver’s seat?
2 comments:
Well I think it just depends on how you are feeling? Should "Jesus take the wheel"? or should (s)he just be your co-pilot?
Ryan asked Leah the other day what the name would be if I gave her a baby brother.
She said "Christian". We tossed around the idea of that name when we were pregnant with Leah...I'm pretty sure we've never mentioned it again...
Crazy!
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