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I Spy With My Little Eye

November 15, 2011

After another restless night with Baby A, I was woken up this morning by my son shouting up the stairs.  I didn’t have time to be eased awake by the smell of coffee brewing.  I didn’t wake up to the jingle of dog tags or the sound of my wife searching out a pair of socks in our dark bedroom.  I was woken up by the sound of a gleeful little boy bursting with excitement.

“Mom!  Mom!!!  Have you ever seen a bobcat?”

For a second, and only a very brief second, I thought there was a large cat roaming the street.

Then my ears perked up to the sound of heavy machinery and the motion of Baby A’s eyes fluttering open.  I groaned inwardly.  I issued a sleepy holler that yes I had had the pleasure of seeing a bobcat in my lifetime.  I certainly didn’t want to go to my window to see the one he was entralled about, nor did I really think that it was the kind of pressing thing I needed to woken up about, but I refrained from yelling this down the stairs.

“Have you ever been in a bobcat?”

I let him know that I’ve never been in a bobcat and he went out the door on his way to school.

I don’t know what it is about boys (and I’ll say butches, too) and heavy machinery.  They’re just so fascinated by it.  It’s like they see their tonka toy collection all grown up and they just can’t contain themselves.  They get giddy over big pieces of equipment.

This morning my neighbour is getting a new drive way.  I’d happily go sit in that bobcat now if it meant I’d get another hour or two of sleep.

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