We are en route to Colorado for a Halloween party and wedding reception. Our dear boy has been so inquisitive.
What's that, Mama?
Who did that?
What's that?
Where we going?
What that called, Mama?
Who turned on the lights? (brights on)
Who turned off the lights? (brights off)
I can't remember my first car trip out to Colorado - I was 4. Field after field in Southern Minnesota - is he dreaming of running through the each one? The late night harvesting through western Iowa - Who driving that tractor, Mama? What he doing, Daddy? Corn fields, cattle, and hay throughout the entirety of Nebraska. Look at that cow, Mama! Should we ride it? What that smell?
The questions have remained the same, the generations have changed. Fifty-five years ago, it was my mom asking those questions, then painting the old barns along the way as she grew. Then me, wondering about everything, drawing my then favorite animal (calves). And now my own two and a half year old. Asking about the tractors, wondering who is driving the semi-truck, scribbling on the Magna Doodle (drawing tractors, he tells me).
It's not dark, he tells me now, when I asked why he wasn't tired. His excitement for travel is already so apparent. He has slept for 3 hours since we left (yesterday afternoon!) and he just wants to look, to watch, to soak it all in and learn.
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